Dead Without You
by morgana-avalon
Summary: Set at the ending of the movie the Winter Soldier. After Bucky drags Steve onto the shore and saves his life, Bucky wants to get away from it all. Steve has different plans though.
1. Chapter 1

Dead Without You

Author: Morgana  
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes  
Rating: old-fashioned R as far as I'm concerned.  
Summary: Set at the ending of the movie the Winter Soldier. After Bucky drags Steve onto the shore and saves his life, Bucky wants to get away from it all. Steve has different plans though.

Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm not making any money out of these stories! The characters belong to Marvel.  
Warnings: I'm not a native speaker of English, so don't expect perfection.  
Not beta read

All mistakes are mine.

Positive feedback always welcome. Do be gentle though, I'm only human and make mistakes/typos.

Part 1

I watch him fall and barely manage to hang on myself. The helicarrier is tearing itself apart. Explosions rock the vessel, and if he hadn't saved me earlier, I would probably be dead now. Why did he save me in the first place? We're enemies. Hydra ordered his death and for some reason I couldn't complete the mission. When I prepared to deliver the final blow something stopped me. Instead of killing him as Hydra ordered, I wanted to save him and I grew horrified at the amount of the damage I had done. His face was a mess and he was bleeding from several bullet wounds. I was still trying to accept that I had hurt him to that extent when another severe explosion rocked the helicarrier, practically catapulting him off the vessel.

Hanging from one of the beams, I watch him fall toward the lake. The impact will stun him and chances are he will drown. A part of me rebels against that and wants to see him safe instead. Hydra didn't provide me with much information on my target; normally they update me on my opponent's fighting skills, but this time they didn't. It felt rushed, like Hydra HAD to act instead of choosing to act.

Another explosion rocks the helicarrier and it's time I made up my mind. What do I do? I might be able to hang for a few more minutes, but the helicarrier will go down eventually. Do I wait for that or do I jump after him and try to save him? In the end, letting go and diving after him is one of the easiest decisions I ever made. A deeply rooted urge to protect him overrides Hydra's conditioning. I have to get him out of the water and I need to make sure he survives. Saving him is more important than ensuring my own safety.

As I hit the water, I draw in a deep breath and dive after him. The lake is deep and I plunge into darkness. It's hard to see where he went and it takes me a while before I locate him. I grab hold of his shoulder and pull him with me as I swim toward the surface. Hopefully that helicarrier won't drop atop of us, because then we're both dead. He's heavier than I thought and moving against the stream makes maneuvering hard. It doesn't help that I'm injured myself and that exhaustion is sneaking into my bones.

In the end, I reach the surface and release the breath I have been holding onto. My lungs were about to implode due to oxygen deprivation; it must be even worse for my… I don't know what he is to me, but he isn't my target anymore, that's for sure. He isn't moving, his eyes are closed and he seems completely unaware of what's happening. The fact that he's a dead weight doesn't help. I gather my last reserves and pull him along. I can't give up now.

I pull my charge close and make sure he's able to breathe. I swim toward the shore and keep a close eye on the helicarrier, which quickly loses altitude. I need to be out of the water before it hits the surface of the lake or it will draw us back in. We're so close to making it out alive and I'll be damned if I give up now, so I reach deep inside and swim faster.

Gritting my teeth, I tell myself to block the pain running through my shoulder and arm. The shoulder is dislocated and the arm probably broken, but I can't allow the pain stop me. The helicarrier is picking up speed on its way down and I desperately head for the shore. Once I get my feet beneath me, I drag him along, too tired and aching too much to actually hoist him up and carry him. Once we're safely ashore, I let go and drop him onto the ground. He shows no reaction and is dead to the world. I pull my injured arm close and support it. Fuck, my shoulder really hurts. He did quite a number on it.

An ominous sound makes me turn around and I watch the helicarrier as it hits the water. It causes a huge tidal wave and I'm glad we're out of the lake. The suction would have pulled us back in and we would have drowned. Looking about I wonder what to do. Hydra expects me to find my way back to them, but I don't want to go back. I'm sick and tired of the pain and their lies. Yes, I know that they lied to me. They told me that I knew my target because of an earlier mission, but it isn't true. I don't know how I know that, but I do. I remember him. I remember him calling me Bucky before. The name feels familiar, but I have no idea why and I'm not sure I want to find out. For if Hydra lied to me, the truth might be even more worse. I rather take the devil I know that the one I don't.

Whatever I do, I need to make that decision now. His friends are looking for him and I might not survive another confrontation, not in my current state. Maybe this is the chance I've waiting for. Maybe this time I can get away from Hydra. I hate that cryo chamber, the pain they put me through when they prep me for another mission, and the cold and lonely existence they condemned me to. This is my chance to get away from it all and it might be the only chance I'll ever get. I need to grab it. I turn around and want to walk away from my target – no charge, fuck, whatever he is.

"Bucky…"

I thought he was unconscious so hearing his voice takes me by surprise. Hearing that name still stuns me and I realize it does cause some sort of recognition deep inside me. That name means something to me, and all of a sudden, I want to know more. I want to know why he calls me that. He told me he has known me all my life and that he will be with me till the end of the line. Why would he say such things if he didn't know me? I'm not sure I want to find out more about myself, but I need to do this. The need to know is overwhelming.

I turn around again and sit on my heels next to him. He's conscious all right. He must be in a great deal of pain, but he's still focused – on me, for some reason. "Who's Bucky?" Asking him that question sparks a memory. I asked him that before. We were fighting on that bridge and I lost my mask. He called me Bucky when he saw my face for the first time and I remember feeling utterly lost because of it. Until that moment, my thought processes had been in Russian and suddenly they changed to English. I didn't even know I spoke that language. My handlers always address me in Russian, so how can I possibly know English?

"You are," he groans, hanging on by the skin of his teeth. He tries to lift his hand, but it falls back onto the mud as he still lacks strength.

"I'm Bucky?" Again, the name stirs a sense of deep familiarity, but I have no idea what it means. Hydra never called me anything but soldier.

"Yes, you're Bucky and I'm Steve. We're friends. Old friends – close friends."

He lifts his hand again and wraps his fingers around my boot, but he lacks the power to hold on. He continues to struggle on, determined to do whatever it is he is after, although he's obviously in agony. I know what it's like to go on in spite of the pain. I learned to lock it out a long time ago. It seems he hasn't mastered that skill yet – not completely, or maybe he's too exhausted.

At least I know his name now. His name is Steve. Steve… yes, it feels right. That name suits him, and I wonder how I know that. How can he claim we are friends? I don't have friends. So how can he claim he knows me that well? Fuck, this is driving me mad. Either I get the answers I need, or I need to walk away from this – now, before he confuses me further. Maybe I shouldn't try to find out more. Maybe leaving him and trying to stay away from Hydra is my best option if I want to survive. Yes, that is. I need to disappear.

Now that I've made my decision, I look at him and try to memorize his face. But the cruel truth is that I'll probably forget about him during the day. My memory is useless. Wanting to reassure him, I say, "Your friends will come for you. They'll take care of you." I'm about to get to my feet when he suddenly lunges for me and grabs hold of my injured arm. I bite down the pain, push it back, and shut it out. "Let go." Why am I not freeing myself of his hold though? Why do I allow him to keep me in place?

"No, I'm never letting you go again. You're staying with me."

I'm impressed he's still capable of holding on to me. After everything he went through, he still has some energy reserves left. The thing is, I can free myself, but if I do that, I will hurt him. I don't want to cause additional injuries though. For some reason, I care about him. The sound of rotor blades tell me his friends located him. I can't allow them to find me though. I never want to be a prisoner again, not with freedom this close. If only he would let go!

"Bucky, please stay. I need you to stay."

His pleading tone gets to me and I swear I heard those words before. He told me this before, but when? And why? "I can't stay." This is my chance to disappear, but he's ruining that.

"Bucky, please… Give me a chance…"

He tries to elbow himself into an upright position, but ends up collapsing again. I find myself reaching out to support him, but freeze the moment the chopper lands. A red-haired woman, another target which I missed, and the guy whose wings I destroyed, jump from the helicopter and come running toward me. They don't appear armed so I might be able to take them out, but… Steve, that's his name, yes, Steve, is still holding on to me and I really don't want to hurt him. This insane urge to protect him and to look after him isn't fading. If anything, it is getting stronger. I'm seriously fucked here.

"Let him go!"

Suddenly the guy draws a weapon and aims it at me. My first instinct is to attack; to run right through him and disappear, but I can't, since Steve still refuses to let go of my wrist. "I can't," I whisper eventually. "I'm not holding him down." The woman is the first to arrive and a name flashes in my mind. Hydra did provide me with some intelligence on her. Her name is Romanoff, code name Black Widow. I fought her on the bridge, but I have got the feeling that wasn't the first time we met. She looks familiar and not because I chased her because she was a target.

"Steve, what are you doing?"

She kneels next to Steve and looks him over. At the same time, her partner aims his gun at me. I can take them out – they present no real danger, but I can't until Steve lets go. "Tell him to release me." Maybe I can manipulate her into helping me. Telling Steve to let go of me is in their best interest too. She gives me an odd look, but then concentrates on Steve again.

"Steve, he's right. You need medical attention. You need to go the hospital so they can fix you up. You need to let go."

Judging by Steve's expression her little manipulation isn't working. He looks even more determined now and his grip tightens. I fail to swallow the groan that escapes my lips. Blocking the pain in my arm and shoulder is getting harder now that the adrenaline is wearing off. I managed to shut one of his eyes, but the other one suddenly widens, why?

"I hurt you. You need medical attention too!" Steve exclaims upset.

I find myself answering him instinctively. I can't stop the reaction; I need to reassure him. "It's nothing; just a dislocated shoulder and a broken arm. I will heal. Your wounds are worse and you should allow your friends to look after you." Noise, and movement coming from behind me, informs me that a third person arrived on the scene. I want to turn around to find out if he's a threat, but I can't stop staring at Steve. At the moment, he's my priority. I need to protect him and to keep him safe. Judging by the powerful grip he has on me, we failed to convince him to release me. "He isn't going to let go," I tell them softly. I doubt they are interested in my opinion, but I should tell them. "I can make him let go, but that will cause additional injuries, broken fingers and a broken wrist at the least." Maybe that is a price they are willing to pay in order to separate the two of us.

"No, don't."

This voice belongs to the unknown party and I look at him from over my shoulder. I instantly recognize him. "I killed you." My first attempt at murdering him failed, as he managed to get away, but I shot him later. I didn't miss. I know that. "How can you still be alive?" To my surprise, I remember his name, Nick Fury, director of Shield, one of Hydra's sworn enemies. Most of the time, Hydra deletes all prior information from my brain. Why did this stick around?

"Well, that's a long story and we don't have a lot of time right now." Fury sits on his heels next to Steve and studies him closely. "Steve, talk to me, how serious is this? Are you going to pull through or do we need to rush you off to the hospital?"

To me, Fury definitely looks in favor of rushing him to hospital and I tend to agree. Steve doesn't take his eyes off of me though. He keeps watching me closely, like he's afraid I'll disappear on him. And he's right about that. I will run the moment opportunity presents itself. "Answer him." I have no idea why I said that. It just feels like something I should do; maybe this time he will listen to me. Romanoff's quick intake of breath tells me I stunned her. I feel her eyes on me, but she stays at a respectful distance, so I ignore her. I also forget that there's a gun aimed at me. Right now, my whole world revolves around one person – Steve.

"You're still bossy. That hasn't changed," Steve mumbles and tries to smile, but he instantly regrets it and moans due to the pain. I might have broken some facial bones when I continued to hit him. I hope I didn't break his skull. Steve minutely moves his head and looks at Fury instead. "I'll live. Skip the hospital. Just take me home."

"I'm not so sure about that. Maybe we can agree on a quick stop at the hospital on your way home?" Romanoff says in a light tone, but she doesn't fool me. She has a hidden agenda.

"Really quick stop then," Steve agrees in the end. His gaze focuses on me again. "Help me up, Buck."

"Are you sure about that?" It's the weirdest thing; my senses are completely trained on Steve and I constantly forget about his friends. "You don't look like you're able to stand, let alone walk."

"I'm sure," he says in a final tone.

Steve tries to get to his feet, but as he's bound to fail, I move quickly, helping him up and supporting him. He still refuses to let go though. Instead of holding onto my wrist, his hand suddenly slides lower and he wraps his fingers around mine and intertwining them, which, thankfully, makes it easier for me to help him stay on his feet. I wish he'd let go though. For some reason, his touch unnerves and reassures me, both at the same time and I don't know what to make of that. Why is everything so damn confusing?

"Let's get him onto the chopper." Fury is already on the move, getting the helicopter started again.

Romanoff and the other guy monitor me closely, but don't attempt to help. It's up to me apparently. Steve is a dead weight against me and in the end I'm carrying most of his weight, practically dragging him along. If only he would let go. This is the perfect moment for me to make a run for it. Once I stop supporting him, Steve will go down and his friends will be too worried about him in order to come after me.

I wriggle my fingers in an attempt to free my hand, but Steve merely tightens the hold again. My tactic actually backfired; Steve is holding on as tightly as he can, almost to the point of cutting off the blood supply to my fingers. "Ease up, or I might have to break your fingers anyway," I warn him. I'm willing to let him get away with a lot – as it seems - but that's where I draw the line.

Steve seems to realize why I said that and complies, but only marginally. I carefully flex my fingers, getting the blood supply going again. The arm has gone numb, which isn't a good sign, but at the moment, the lack of pain is a blessing. "Help me," I tell Romanoff once the two of them are inside the chopper. They pull Steve onto the seat while I'm forced to move along and to sit down next to him. Steve's hold really restricts my space.

"Hold on, back there," Fury announces. "We're heading for the hospital."

I read between the lines and hear what he's not saying. It's in his tone and the way he looks at me when he thinks I'm not watching. He wants to arrest me, put me away, and get me away from Steve. I even understand that he wants to do away with the threat I represent. I would do the same thing if I was in his position. He'll use the first opportunity he'll get. I need to be quicker though. The moment Steve finally lets go, I need to make a run for it. Steve suddenly slides toward me and ends up resting his head against my shoulder.

I freeze in shock at the unexpected contact. Once the surprise wears off, I wonder what to do. Should I push him off? But he's wounded. Instead I fight down the urge to pull him close and to hold him. Romanoff's grin catches me off guard. Why does she look amused? She can't know what I'm thinking.

"Sam, something tells me we will have a hard time separating those two!"

So his name is Sam. I file the information away and hope I won't forget it. My memory is always a problem and I tend to forget a great deal. But maybe I'll remember that name this time. His name is Sam, and my former target's name is Steve. Steve and Sam… I should be able to remember those. Sam and Steve, Steve and Sam. Damn, I'm making myself dizzy repeating their names. It always happens when I try to commit something to memory, or even worse, to remember something.

"You might me right," Sam replies.

The underlying tone in his voice is hostile. I recognize it at once. Romanoff and Fury sound different when they address me. This guy though… what was his name again? Was it Sam? He sounds like he can't wait to put that bullet in my head and finish me off. Oh wait; he's no longer pointing that gun at me. When did he put it away and why didn't I notice? Probably because my senses are currently trained on the wounded man resting against me.

"We're about to land. I informed Hill and Coulson and they're waiting for us. We need to be quick about this and to get him inside without drawing attention," Fury says.

My chances of escape dwindle with each passing minute. The moment we land there will be a large number of Shield Agents to take me in. The only reason why Romanoff and… the other guy – fuck, I forgot his name again – aren't arresting me is because they might injure Steve while taking me down. Maybe I should stop telling Steve to let go. At the moment, he's the only thing keeping me safe.

The chopper touches down, and as expected, a load of people are waiting for us. There are some doctors, easily recognizable because of their white coats, nurses, and then there are two more suits, Shield agents of course. I'm surprised there aren't more of them around. I expected a much larger welcoming committee on Shield's part.

"Steve, this must stop now. You need to let go. We need to check on you and they may even have to operate on you. You can't keep holding onto him. You need to let go," Fury says, sounding vexed.

I don't blame him for being annoyed. Steve is one of his men and such disobedience is unheard of. The few times I disobeyed orders Hydra made me pay for my resistance and I don't want that to happen to him, most certainly not in his current state. "You should listen to him," I say, trying to get through to him again. "You need to let go." I do realize that Steve letting go of me means I'll get arrested within seconds. That is, in case they merely want to arrest me. Why take chances? They'll probably execute me on the spot, the moment Steve is out of sight.

"No, I'm not letting you go."

"You stubborn oaf!" escapes me and I blink in surprise. Where did that come from? Why did I say that? Steve manages to move his head slightly so he can look at me and I cringe at being confronted with the damage I did to his face all over again. I feel the need to apologize, but manage to swallow the words. I can't show any weakness in front of Shield. First I need to find out what is going to happen to me and then why I'm reacting like this. Everything seems to revolve around Steve. Why?

"You know what I'm like –stupid and stubborn. I refuse to lose you again. Now that I have finally found you, I'm not letting go," Steve says in a tense voice. It's obvious he means business.

Trying to change his mind won't work; I somehow know that. I wish I knew how I know him so well. "This is stupid," I berate him. "You need medical attention. Why are you making it so hard for them to help you?" Now that the chopper is shutting down, it's time to get him onto that stretcher. "Move it." If he doesn't cooperate, I will pick him up and deposit him onto that stretcher.

"Yes, sir," Steve whispers and actually grins – a bit, and rather painfully.

I shake my head at his stubbornness and do my best to steady him when he gets to his feet. He feels stronger than before; he is already recovering from our fight. I succeed in helping him sit down, but he refuses to lie down. "You're wounded," I remind him. "There's no shame in lying down and letting them help!" Now I'm growing annoyed with him too. How many times did I shoot him? It's a miracle he's still alive and he stills refuses to cooperate!

"You're injured too," he says softly and searches my face.

All I can think about is Steve – us – and I need to remind myself of the precarious situation I'm in. I'm surrounded by Shield agents and one trigger happy finger will be the end of me. I doubt even I survive a bullet to the head. Instead, I'm stuck here arguing with him. If he continues like that, he's going to be the death of me.

"You need to keep up with him," Fury says as the medics start moving the stretcher.

Fury is much too close for my personal taste, but there's nothing I can do about so I speed up and walk next to the stretcher. "You have to let go at some point," I tell Steve, who is still giving me that odd look.

"Maybe, but not yet."

He keeps watching me. For some elusive reason he seems really happy to see me and he's not going to let go of my hand. There's not a damn thing I can do about it, except hurt him while freeing myself.

They roll him into an exam room and I fight the shivers running down my spine. I hate everything that even resembles an exam room. I used to know why, but after that last mind wipe, I can't seem to find the right memory. I just hate it in here.

"I'm Doctor Davis and we need to exam our patient. Please let go, you're in the way," a doctor tells me. He looks surprisingly young to be a qualified physician, but he doesn't back down when I try to stare him into submission. Instead, he gives me an admonishing look. It looks like I need to explain this again. "He refuses to let go of me. It's the other way around." Maybe now he'll understand what's going on. "He won't listen to me."

"Oh." The doctor looks more closely and seems to get the predicament I'm in. "Sorry for telling you off when he's the problem instead. Captain, you need to let go now. We can't examine and treat your injuries if you don't."

I'm under the impression that Steve's finally thinking it over and he might actually comply. Maybe it will help if I repeat the doctor's request. "He's right. Let go." He can't protect me forever and I willingly surrender to my fate. Let Shield take me out of the game. At least that way Hydra can't make me kill again. I've already been to hell and back; I doubt Shield is worse than Hydra. At least, I hope so.

"Nick," Steve suddenly whispers and searches for his friend, who quickly moves into his line of sight. He's still holding on to my hand though.

"I'm here," Fury assures him and moves closer. "What is it?"

"I need you to promise me something."

Is he really going to argue with his superior when they should be treating his injuries? Apparently yes, which doesn't just make him stubborn, but stupid too. What if he's bleeding to death right now? He's losing a huge amount of blood, which worries me. There are too many wounds and they need to start working on him ASAP.

"What kind of promise?" Nick asks cautiously and exchanges a look with Romanoff.

"Promise me to keep Bucky safe. I want him to be there when I get out of surgery. Don't hurt him, Just don't. I vouch for him," Steve says in a tone that's part pleading and partly a threat.

I stare at Steve in surprise. Why is he doing this? Why does he want to protect me at all cost? I doubt Fury will agree. He's probably eager to take me in, question me, and in the best case scenario just lock me away. I hope Shield doesn't share Hydra's mantra; there's only order with Hydra and order comes through pain. I can endure torture, but even I have limits.

"I promise, Cap, now let them do their job," Fury says and briefly touches Steve's shoulder.

I'm stunned to hear that, but Fury is most certainly lying as it will get him results the fastest; Steve will give in and then Shield has access to me. I already discarded fighting myself a way out. This is a hospital and I don't want to injure, or even worse kill, patients and medical staff. Steve wavers at hearing Fury's promise, and he promptly searches for Romanoff. She catches on, moves closer, and smiles at him.

"I know what's coming," she says. "You're easy to read." That earns her a lopsided smile. "Save your breath, Steve. I promise to look after Barnes. He's safe with us."

Barnes? Who's Barnes? I frown at realizing that the name sounds familiar. But why? Is it the name of another target Hydra once ordered me to kill? I can't be sure as my memories only go back some hours. I remember facing Steve on the helicarrier and before that, there was only pain, so I was with Hydra. Although I'm lost in thought, I instantly register Steve finally letting go of my hand. His grip loosens, and he squeezes my hand once before releasing me. A quick look tells me that he finally lost consciousness. I'm surprised he managed to hang on for this long.

"All right, people, let's do this!" Doctor Davis resolutely takes charge and they wheel Steve into the next room. I hate the fact that I can't stay with him and can only hope the doctors know what they are doing. The doors close behind them and a sense of dread settles in the pit of my stomach. My situation suddenly changed completely. I'm in a room with Shield agents, who are probably royally pissed off because I hurt their top agent.

Not knowing that to do, I fall back on Hydra's teachings. Lowering my head, I stare at the floor and keep completely still. I don't want to give them a reason to attack me and I try to appear as submissive as I can. Sometimes, that tactic worked with my handler and I got off easy.

Provoking or attacking Shield is the last thing on my mind, but they don't know that so I have to show them. Assaulting them wouldn't get me anywhere. There are doubtlessly a lot more Shield agents close, just waiting to move in at the smallest sign of me turning hostile. I keep my gaze trained on the floor and wait. My fate will be decided within the next few minutes and I pray they'll quickly kill me. A clean, swift execution would be the best way out of this. I'm rather dead than face eternal torment again.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

I don't expect Fury to approach me. I expect a bullet to the head instead.

"Someone needs to check on you too. That shoulder and arm look seriously messed up," Fury says as he comes to a halt in front of me.

Although Fury is standing right of front of me, and in a way, challenging me to look at him, I keep staring at the floor. My handlers learned to read my mood and Fury is probably even better at reading my body language – at least I hope so. I do my best to appear passive and non threatening and hopefully he will understand that I accept him as my superior.

"Wilson, do me a favor, stay with the guy while a doc checks him out. Romanoff, you're with me. Coulson, Hill, get busy on damage control."

One by one they leave the room. I can't believe how stupid they are. Are they really letting me live? They have the chance to do away with me, Hydra's fist, and they walk away instead? Stunned, I raise my head and check on my surroundings. It's true, they left and only that one guy remains behind. He's studying me, but I don't believe he's a threat. Once I destroyed his wings he was out of the game. What is his name again? I can't remember his first name, - did it start with S? - but Fury called him Wilson too. Wilson, yes, Wilson, I need to remember that. What was his first name though? It wasn't Steve… The other guy is Steve.

"Why don't you come with me so we can fix that arm and shoulder?" Another physician walks up to me. He's old, has grey hair, and wears spectacles. He looks harmless, but I can't be sure. His name tag says his name is Collins. "Follow me. I need to take some x-rays."

What choice do I have? Yes, I can make a run for it, but I'm quite sure Fury positioned snipers on the surroundings buildings and they won't hesitate to shoot to kill in case I try to escape. I cast a quick look at Wilson, but he seems equally confused, so it's up to me to make the call. I choose the safest option and demurely follow the physician into a different room. In a way, it's easier to just obey – I am used to obeying my handlers.

The moment I step into the room, I freeze. For one second my mind played a trick on me and I thought it was Hydra's machine waiting for me. I hope they didn't notice my reaction and I quickly resume walking into the room. I try to reassure myself by telling myself that it's only an x-ray machine. I'm not with Hydra at the moment and the machine isn't here. I'm at a hospital, and for some unfathomable reason Fury decided to fix my shoulder instead of ending my life.

Wilson takes up position close to the door, which surprises me. He's too far away in order to stop me should I attack the doctor. I feel odd, sitting here and waiting to be x-rayed. This shouldn't be happening. I should be dead by now.

"Can you remove your… jacket… so I can have a better look at your shoulder?"

The physician seems unsure what to call my uniform. Used as I am to following orders, I comply, but it's difficult. I can't reach all the straps with my left arm and moving my right is something I'd rather not do. But then again, the jacket has to come off anyway if the guy wants to fix my shoulder, so I move my right arm, trying to reach some straps on my back.

"Hold on, that looks downright painful. I'll help."

I don't expect anyone to help, save the physician perhaps, but he went into the next room to prep the x-ray. Wilson walks up to me and I keep my head down, determined not to provoke him. I can take him, but that won't get me anywhere; right now I need to cooperate. Wilson reaches for the straps and loosens them, before sliding off the jacket bit by bit. It feels great to get some pressure off the shoulder.

"How do you want me to do this? Your arm looks even worse than your shoulder."

It surprises me that he's asking me for advice. "Just remove the jacket." It has to come off, so why stall?

"But…"

Wilson seems unwilling to proceed, so I grab the sleeve and pull it down my injured arm. The pain is easily suppressed. It doesn't compare to other injuries I carried away over the years. I drop the jacket onto the floor and wait for the doctor to return so we can get this over with.

"That's…"

Wilson sounds shocked and I actually hear him swallowing hard at the sight of my arm. In the end, my curiosity gets the better of me and I look at my arm in order to find out why he reacts that way. Looks broken in two, maybe even three places. It doesn't really bother me as I know it will heal during the next few days. As far as I'm concerned they only need to pop my shoulder back in and I'm good to go.

"Ah, that's great. Now we can proceed with the X-ray. Please lie down and try to relax. I'll check on your shoulder and your arm, although it's rather obvious it's broken."

Collins is back and rambling. He seems ill at ease for some reason. Maybe someone told him whose shoulder he's supposed to fix and he wants out. I lie down as ordered and close my eyes for a moment, momentarily indulging myself in being able to rest. I focus my hearing and pick up on them moving about in the room. A door closes and a series of clicks tells me they're x-raying my shoulder and arm. I don't sit up yet as I know most methods of relocating my shoulder involves me lying down. This happened before.

The door opens and I can tell they're back; Collins and Wilson too. Their arrival causes me to open my eyes and to look at them. Collins looks even more spooked than before. Maybe Wilson updated him on my charming personality and past?

"Your injuries are quite severe, I'm afraid." Collins comes to a halt and his facial features contort. "Your arm is fractured above the elbow and rather close to your shoulder blade. Normally I would opt to relocate your shoulder as quickly as possible, but with those two fractures in those particular places it would hurt like hell. I'd rather sedate you and operate on you."

"No sedation and no operation." I doubt I'll wake up from surgery. It's the perfect way to do away with me. "Just pop it back in."

"I can't," Collins whispers, appearing shocked by the very suggestion. "You'd faint due to the pain. I can give you some pain medication, but I doubt it will block the pain completely. Surgery is our best option."

"Just do it. Don't worry about the pain. I don't either. Just fix my shoulder." It's beyond me why he's so hesitant to do this. My handlers just went ahead and did whatever needed to be done.

"I'm sorry, but I can't add to your pain, which must already be significant to begin with."

I sigh, turn my head, and look him in the eye. "Just do it. Don't worry about it. I'll be alright." Collins still looks unconvinced, but he moves closer to my shoulder. "Just do it. I'll be fine."

"At least let me give you something against the pain."

Well, if it sets his mind at ease and it will get the job done quicker, I'll go along with it. "Nothing that will sedate me though. I need to be alert."

"I'll be right back."

Collins leaves the room and I'm alone with Wilson, who is giving me an odd look. I ignore him though. I hate it in here and can't wait to leave. Although, I have no idea where Shield will take me, so maybe this place isn't so bad after all.

"I've seen the x-ray, man. That arm and shoulder are seriously fucked up. You should opt for surgery."

Why is Wilson offering his opinion? He sounds worried, but I don't believe it. Earlier on the chopper I heard the hostility in his voice. This guy definitely hates me and I can't trust him. I open my mouth to tell him that, but then stop myself. My best option is to lock him out and ignore him. Provoking him isn't a good idea.

Collins enters the room again and I shiver at seeing the syringe he's carrying. I hold still while he injects the substance into my bloodstream. I don't even know what he just put in my system. It can be poison for all I know.

"Let's give the medication some time to start working and then we'll relocate your shoulder. After that, I want to put your arm in a cast. You'll need to wear a sling for some weeks."

"No cast." My arm will heal and the cast will be an inconvenience. I'll use the sling, but that's about it.

"But…"

I'm getting tired of this. Maybe I should fix my shoulder myself, but that might go badly. As much as I hate to admit it, I need the guy. "Just do it."

"In a few minutes! Damn you, I'm about to violate the Hippocratic oath I once took and you're not helping! Give the medication time to work!"

I study the guy more closely. Maybe I reached the wrong conclusion earlier. Maybe he feels ill at ease because he has a hard time causing me pain instead of hating having to treat an assassin.

"Maybe you should cut our doc here some slack," Wilson suggests. "He's only trying to help."

"I know that," I whisper. "But he doesn't need to worry about me. No one ever does. I'm used to it. Just fix the damn shoulder."

"I worry about each and every one of my patients, that includes you, young man."

It's not what I expected to hear, but I dismiss it at once. It's normal that a physician worries about his patients; it doesn't mean a thing. I watch the minutes tick away on the clock; the guy is really making me wait thirty minutes.

"Alright, the pain medication should be working now. Tell me if the pain becomes too much and I'll stop."

It's finally going to happen. My patience was beginning to wear thin. Collins reaches for my arm, manipulates the elbow, and slowly the shoulder pops back in. I don't know why he acted like that before. I hardly felt a thing.

"Seems like the morphine works just fine. The pain is gone, isn't it?"

He gave me bloody morphine? Yeah, the pain is gone, but I know about its side effects and it will make me drowsy. It will slow me down in case of an attack and… Ah, that's why he gave me morphine; so Shield has no problems brining me in. I am so preoccupied with worrying that I don't notice Collins positioning a sling around my neck at first and now he's eying my broken arm.

"You do need a cast. Your arm will grow crooked if you don't."

The morphine is starting to kick in. It makes me sluggish and I have a hard time keeping my eyes open. I already felt exhausted to begin with and now the drug is encouraging my body to relax.

"I'll be quick about it. You just go to sleep. I'll fix your arm too."

He's going to do it. He's actually going to put my arm in a fucking cast. Uh, why am I getting riled up about it? I can smash the cast to pieces the moment I wake up. No harm done… I'll fix it later… My eyes close, my body shuts down, and I drift off into sleep.

0000

I shiver as I wake up. I'm cold and I still feel sleepy. I force my eyes open and take in as much as I can. Where am I? This doesn't look like my cell or Hydra's camp. The walls are white and the smell is sterile; much like in a hospital. The beeping coming from my right sounds familiar; someone is monitoring my heartbeat. Looking down, I find myself in some sort of hospital bed and they covered me with some blankets. I'm still cold though. Then again, I feel cold most of the time, especially when I just got out of cryo. The cold goes away for a while once the Winter Soldier goes on his mission, and when the conditioning wears off, the cold comes back with a vengeance. It's like the cold moved into my very bones and I can't shake it.

"Ah, someone finally decided to wake up."

I don't recognize the voice… or do I? Something tugs at the corners of my mind, but the memory fades before I can tell what it's about. I raise my head and look in the direction the voice came from. The man sitting in a chair and reading a newspaper is a stranger to me. Or isn't he? I feel like I should know him. I have seen him before, haven't I?

The questions make my head hurt. I elbow myself into an upright position, but my right arm seems unresponsive. Looking down, I wonder why it is in a cast and why is there a sling as well? I'm tempted to smash the cast and to rip off the sling, but as long as I don't know what's happening, I should play it safe and wait.

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you in pain? Collins assured me your arm and shoulder shouldn't be troubling you for the next few hours."

I have no idea who Collins is. The fact that he seems worried slightly reassures me. I peek at him and wonder if asking him questions is an option. Is he a handler? Did the enemy capture me? "Who are you? Where am I?" The guy appears stunned and stares at me for a moment.

"I'm Sam. Sam Wilson. I'm keeping an eye on you while you're recovering from having your shoulder and arm fixed."

I blink and look at my arm. Hydra never bothered with casts before. They simply put me into cryo to heal, and once they need me, they take me out. My injuries always heal in the mean time. "Where am I?" I repeat, feeling a bit encouraged now that he answered one question already.

His frown deepens and it tells me he expects me to know these things. I feel guilty for having such a bad memory, but I forget things all the time!

"We're at the hospital. Collins fixed your shoulder and arm, and you went straight to sleep. We took you to Steve's room, who is still in surgery by the way."

Steve? I search my memory as the name seems familiar. A face appears, and I can only assume it's Steve's. I wish I remembered more, but I need to make the best out of the situation I'm in.

"You're shivering. Are you cold?"

"I'm always cold." I never wanted to tell him that; the words just slipped out. The guy – was his name Wilson? – gets to his feet and collects a morning robe from where it's hanging from the door. He then moves over to the bed and drapes it around my shoulders, tucking it in. I let him, as I am too stunned to actually make a move.

"You should lie down again. That morphine is still affecting you. Try to rest. I have no idea when Steve will get out of surgery so you should get more sleep in the mean time."

What happened to this Steve to put him in surgery? I cringe – hopefully I didn't cause this. If only I could remember what happened!

"Go back to sleep. You're safe here."

Wilson moves his chair closer to my bed and settles down with his book. I don't know why, but seeing him sit there, all calm and just reading, helps me relax. I can't recall the last time someone watched over me while I slept. Going back to sleep sounds enticing, as long as the nightmares stay away, that is. Maybe I don't have a choice in the matter though; my eyes are already closing and I'm slipping back under.

0000

I don't know how long I slept, but there's some commotion and it rouses me from my sleep. This time, I remember where I am. I'm curled up on the hospital bed and don't move, while watching them wheel in another patient. I only see the blond hair and notice that his face is heavily bruised, his ribs are bandaged, and he looks like death warmed over. I feel like I should know him. Maybe this is Steve, the guy Wilson talked about? Wait, I actually remembered that?

A man wearing an eye patch and a long, black coat enters next, closely followed by a red-haired woman. I have no idea who they are and thankfully they ignore me. They're solely focused on the blond man in the bed. Suddenly Wilson appears and walks over to the new arrival. He seems relieved.

"How is Steve doing?" he asks one of the doctors.

"He'll make a full recovery. He needs rest though."

"We'll take care of him." The one-eyed man says.

I have the feeling he's the one in charge; he carries himself a certain way, just like Pierce did. Fuck, I don't want to remember him. I really don't. I curl up tighter and curse the stupid cast they put on my arm. It hampers my movements. Using my left arm, I pull the blankets close and try to make myself invisible. If they don't notice me, they'll forget I'm here. Drawing attention to my person is the worst thing that can happen to me, so I remain motionless.

"And how are you doing, Barnes?"

I flinch the moment the guy turns around and looks at me. The fact that he misses an eye makes him even more intimidating. I have no idea why he calls me Barnes and I simply stare back at him. What does he want from me? He walks toward me and I pray he doesn't notice that I'm trembling. He suddenly frowns at me and comes to a stop.

"You do know who I am, don't you? I know you're having trouble remembering things, but… You have no clue who I am or what's going on, do you?"

"I don't… know… you," I stutter, whishing he would stop focusing on me. In how much trouble am I? Did I do something to displease Hydra and did they sent him to deal with me? He pulls up a chair and sits down next to the bed, which means he's even closer now. Beneath the blanket, I continue to shiver.

"I'm Nick Fury. We found you on the shore after that helicarrier came crashing down. You saved Steve's life, so I owe you."

I search my mind. Helicarrier… I think I remember being on it. It was exploding though and a heavy beam fell onto me, trapping me. Someone got me out… "Steve." Without warning, my memories rush back in and try to find their appropriate spot in my mind. I close my eyes in agony and wait for my mind to settle down. It hurts each and every time. It feels like having my mind wiped in reverse.

"Barnes?"

"Who's Barnes?" I squint at him. My head feels much too full and ready to implode. I remember Steve and our fight. I also remember getting him out of the water and them finding us. But I have no idea who this Barnes is they keep talking about.

"You are," Fury says calmly. "That's your full name, James Buchanan Barnes, but people mostly called you Bucky."

I lower my gaze and try to find the right memory to go with that information, but it isn't there. I can't tell if it's the truth or if Fury is making it up, playing me.

"Hey, everything is going to be fine. Just take it easy," Wilson says and nods reassuringly. "Just take it one day at a time."

That's easy for him to say. I turn my head and look at the blond man in the bed. His name is Steve and he claimed that we're good friends. I remember that much. I'm surprised they allow me in the same room with him. "Don't you know that he's my mission? My target? Hydra ordered me to kill him. You shouldn't give me access to him." I might not feel the urge to carry out Hydra's death sentence right now, but who knows what will happen the next time I wake up and think I still need to complete my mission? I can't trust my mind.

"You're not killing anyone, Barnes. Those days are over. We'll talk some more about this, but in time. First, you need to start recovering and I believe Steve's presence is instrumental for you to remember who you are, so you're staying." Fury gets to his feet. "Wilson, do you mind playing baby sitter for these two?"

"No, I don't. We'll manage."

"Great," Fury says and gestures for Romanoff to follow him. "We have a lot of work ahead of us."

The moment the two of them left the room I feel relieved. Except for Wilson, there's only one doctor still checking Steve's readings. Judging it safe for me to move, I manage to sit upright. The morphine must still be working, as my shoulder and arm are numb. I know its effect can last up to eight hours. "How long was he in surgery?"

"One hour," Doctor Davis says, updating me. "And now both of you need to rest. Go back to sleep." After one final check, he finally leaves the room too.

"How is he doing?" I ask Wilson. Steve looks bad and the worst thing about it is that I did that to him.

"He's going to sleep it off, knowing him. Don't worry. Being a super soldier and all that, he will easily pull through."

Those words should reassure me, but they don't. I push back the blankets and put my feet onto the floor while holding onto that bath robe with my left hand. I'm still surprised they decided against immobilizing my arm. An EMP, constantly attached to it, would render it useless. For some odd reason they trust me not to attack them.

"Whoa, what do you think you're doing? Lie back down!"

Wilson rushes over to my side, probably to push me back down. I brace myself and am stunned when he supports me instead.

"What are you doing? You heard the doc; you need to rest!"

I push myself to my feet and curse the morphine they gave me. I should have told Collins no, but then he wouldn't have fixed my shoulder. "I need to see for myself that he's fine. I need to see him." It's all I can think about. I need to make sure Steve is fine. "You must understand; I did this to him. He's this way because I shot him."

"Why did you shoot him?"

To my surprise, Wilson starts to guide me over to Steve's bed. I don't question my luck and just go along with it. "When I came out of the machine, they told me that he was my target and that he had to be stopped at all cost. Hydra burned the mission into my brain. There's no escaping when they do that. I have to follow their orders. I can't resist."

"At least sit down."

Wilson leads me toward a chair and I quickly sit down. Damn those drugs! Hydra never gave me any and because of that I learned how to endure the pain without medication. I'm slightly out of breath and need a moment to compose myself, before I check on Steve. Reaching out with my left hand, I brush some hair away from his face and cringe. His eye looks bad. I'm to blame for that.

"He'll recover. Steve will be back on his feet before you know it."

That might be true, but it doesn't change the fact that I hurt him. I quickly pull away, remembering punching him repeatedly with that very hand. I shouldn't be touching him at all.

"Here, we don't want you to get cold. You can sit here for a moment, but then we're moving you back to your bed."

I'm amazed to find Wilson tucking a blanket around my legs. I pull the morning robe even closer. I'm trembling again, but this time it's not because of the cold. I hate myself for doing this to Steve and I wish I could make amends.

0000

I must have dozed off, because the next time I wake up, it's because someone is moving me to the bed. My first reaction is to fight him off and I barely keep myself from punching Wilson in the gut. He means well, but he took me off guard and my initial reaction to that worries me. " I can walk," I tell him.

"Nah, we're here already." He lowers me onto the bed, puts the blankets back into place, and takes a step back to admire his handiwork. "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?"

I'm unused to being coddled and glare at him. "I'm fine. You could have left me sitting in that chair." That way I'm closer to Steve.

"Doctor's orders, I'm afraid. Collins came in to check on you and gave me hell for allowing you out of bed. Looks like I'm really stuck babysitting the two of you."

I turn onto my side so I can keep an eye on Steve. I want him in my sight. So far, things haven't gone the way I expected. I thought Fury would probably execute me, maybe settle for arresting me and torturing me for information on Hydra, but all they did so far is to take care of me. It's probably because they promised Steve to keep me safe. Or maybe they have a hidden agenda; but what can they hope to accomplish by looking after me? I'll never trust them.

"Are you hungry? I can get us some food."

Wilson's stomach growls, telling me who's really hungry here.

"Ah, it doesn't matter. I'm getting us some food."

I hope he'll leave the room, but he stays put. Instead, he uncovers his phone and starts talking. I don't care about food. I just want to get as close to Steve as I possibly can. Observing him from my bed must do for now as I have the feeling that Wilson will escort me back the moment I try to leave my bed. As long as I know Steve is safe and sound, I'm fine with being confined to bed.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Positive feedback always welcome. Do be gentle though, I'm only human and make mistakes/typos.

Part 3

"Dinner has arrived," Wilson announces in a cheeky tone.

He carries first one tray inside, and then another, which he places on the nightstand next to my bed. A quick look tells me it's meat, potatoes and carrots. It's rare for me to get real food. Missions seldom last long enough for me get physically hungry. Wilson settles down in his chair and starts eating, occasionally criticizing the taste or portion size for being too small. I ignore him and look at Steve instead. It frustrates me that I'm not allowed to sit with him.

"You need to eat too. It's not that good, I give you that, but it will keep your energy level up."

He inclines his head toward the food on the nightstand and gives me an admonishing look. I briefly consider objecting, since I'm not hungry, but I have no idea when – and if – they plan on feeding me again, so eating now makes sense. I manage to sit up, rest my back against the wall, and slide the tray onto my lap using my left arm. That damn cast is getting in the way and I'm limited to the use of my left arm. That cast goes the first chance I get to smash it. The sling also inconveniences me, but I have to play along for now. Chewing is something I need to get used to again and actually having food in my mouth is odd. The taste and smell of it is another novel experience. Was there a time in my life when it was normal for me to eat regularly?

"You look freaked out," Wilson states with a frown on his face. "Care to tell me why?"

It's not a direct order, more like a question, and I'll probably get away with not answering it, but I decide to humor him. I might need his help in the future. "I'm seldom long enough out of cryo to enjoy food." That's as far as I'm willing to go.

His frown deepens. "You do realize you're no longer with Hydra, do you? Fury works for an organization called Shield and Steve here… He's pretty much his own man. Hydra no longer dictates your actions."

"For now," I finish. "Do you really think they'll let me get away that easily?" And once they capture me, the punishment will be horrible. I failed to find my way back to them. I hesitated on that river side. I rather took care of the enemy than find my handlers. Hydra will find out; they have their methods and it always involves pain.

"Let's talk about Hydra later. Finish your dinner first," Wilson says rather pensively. "No need to worry about Hydra just yet."

He's a fool if he really thinks that, but I don't tell him that. I finish the meal and place the empty plate back on the nightstand. I wish Steve would finally wake up. It frustrates me that I'm so far away. Maybe I should try swaying Wilson. I can try…

"Can I sit with him?" Wilson, who's putting the trays outside stays quiet for a moment. Watching him makes me realize that there is at least one armed guard in the corridor. I reckon there are several more, just hidden from view.

"You finished your meal, check. You rested, check. You're even behaving and not trying to kill me, check."

Oh, yes, I did try to kill him. I didn't want to, but Hydra's orders overrode my personality. "I AM sorry about that. I didn't mean to hurt you." Apologizing is the least I can do, not that it will mean much to him, but at least I got it off my chest.

"How does it work?" Wilson sits down on the windowsill and looks me in the eye. "How does Hydra do it? How do they turn you into the Winter Soldier?"

Words can't describe my relief at realizing he knows the difference between me and Hydra's Winter Soldier. I never thought anyone would make the distinction. Being two people at once often drives me to despair. "Hydra has their methods; one of them is conditioning, they wipe your mind and fuck up your brain. When you wake up, the 'you' is gone. It's just him and he does whatever Hydra tells him." I hope it makes sense to him. I don't know how to explain it. I don't want to think about it to begin with. Just remembering it brings back the pain. Some of that must be showing on my face, because Wilson's expression changes.

"Sure, you can sit with him. Let me help."

"I can walk on my own." The shoulder and arm hurt so I reckon the morphine finally left my system. I push back the blankets, get to my feet, and slowly make my way over to the chair while Wilson carefully watches me, hovering close in case I'm not steady on my feet. I sit down, pull the morning robe close so I'm covered up, and accept the blanket Wilson puts on my lap. I'm still cold so I pull the fabric tightly against me. I'm not sure if Wilson will allow me to touch Steve; there's only one way to find out, so I gently wrap my fingers around Steve's hand and rub his fingers. It's odd to see his vulnerable human fingers caught up in my metal ones. Is this okay? I give Wilson a quick look and find that he's smiling. He's letting me get away with it.

I wish Steve would wake up. I have a lot of questions and maybe he can answer some. I stare at his face, wishing I hadn't beaten him that badly. He didn't even defend himself towards the end. He dropped his shield and left himself wide open, trusting me not to finish him off. He was right about that, but I did so much damage beforehand!

"Hey, don't…"

Steve's voice takes me by surprise. I didn't notice him waking up! "I'm sorry," I confess at once. It needs out; it's killing me on the inside. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't want that. If it had been ME in control I wouldn't have hurt you. I'm so sorry, so sorry!" Tears slide down my face, but I hardly notice them as I'm completely focused on the injured man in the bed.

"I know that." Steve turns his head toward me.

"Don't… Don't move, you should rest. Keep still!" I know from personal experience that the first twenty-four hours are the worst. After that, the body starts to heal. He wiggles his fingers and I let go, thinking he doesn't want me to touch him after everything I did to him.

"No, don't," he objects at once and reaches for my hand instead. "Stay."

It appears I was wrong about him not wanting me to touch him and I carefully rewrap my fingers around his hand. I need a moment to reestablish eye contact. "I know you," I tell him, uncertain I should bother him with this while he's still recovering. "I know you. I didn't know your name until you told me, but I know you – in here." Ignoring the cast, I move my right arm and rest it close to my heart. "Your face… Your voice, even the way you smell, I know you." I find it hard to express myself as the words refuse to come, but I hope he understands what I'm trying to tell him. "I don't expect any answers, not right now with you being barely conscious, but maybe we can talk? Later?"

"We WILL talk, you can count on that."

Steve is getting tired again and it won't be long before he goes back to sleep and I'm fine with that. I want him to rest.

"Promise me you'll stay."

I smile at him. "I'll stay. I can't leave anyway. There are guards everywhere."

"They won't hurt you." Steve nods slightly and smiles at seeing the cast and sling. "They fixed you up, that's good."

"Yeah, they didn't have to do that though. It'll heal by itself."

"Just take care of yourself…" Exhaustion takes over and Steve goes back to sleep.

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes momentarily. He's going to be fine. I keep repeating that in my mind, because I need to know the damage I did is reversible. I would never forgive myself if I had permanently damaged him.

"Steve is going to be fine. He's asleep and resting. Maybe you should do the same?"

Suddenly Sam is awfully close and looking at me. "I can rest sitting here." I'm NOT moving back to the bed.

"For now," Wilson says, giving in. "But when night comes, I want you back in your bed."

When night comes, we will see about that.

0000

A few hours later, the door unexpectedly opens and one of the agents who was present when we arrived moves inside. My heart misses a beat seeing he carries Steve's shield. Steve dropped it, refusing to fight me and it disappeared in the water. I forgot all about it.

"Phil," Wilson says and smiles at the Shield agent. "You managed to retrieve it. He'll be pleased about that."

Phil approaches the bed, gives Steve a pondering look, and places the shield close to Steve's bed. The expression in his eyes takes me aback; he looks at Steve with adoration. I wonder how he will look at me… with disgust perhaps? After all, I'm responsible for Steve's current state.

"Sergeant Barnes," Phil says and inclines his head toward me.

I need a moment to understand that he's actually addressing me. I only realize that because I recognize the name – Barnes. I have no idea why he's calling me sergeant. As far as I know I never served in the military.

"I'm Coulson, but you may call me Phil. When Captain Rogers wakes up, can you inform him that we managed to retrieve his shield and that it's waiting for him?"

"Sure," I whisper, uncertain why he's telling me that. It makes more sense for him to address Wilson with that request.

"It's good to know you survived," Coulson says and I wonder about the expression in his eyes. I fail to label it. "Welcome back, sergeant."

He then turns around and marches out of the door. That was distinctly odd.

"He's a fan," Wilson says. "When he found out that Steve Rogers survived the plane crash he turned into a groupie."

I don't know what to make of that. What plane crash is he talking about and what's a groupie? My gaze shifts toward the shield and my hands itch, eager to take hold of it, but am I even allowed to touch it? It's a weapon, one I can use to kill and maim.

"Go ahead. I can tell you want to check it out."

Wilson is insane, making things that easy for me. My vibranium arm makes me dangerous as it is. Doesn't he think about the damage I can do wielding that shield? Apparently he doesn't. I reach for the shield and reverently pick it up. I place it across my lap and look at it. "Its shape is all wrong." I frown, a memory is trying to rise to the surface, but it fades away. Just when I despair, it returns, stronger this time. "It used to look like this." I draw the outline on the shield using my left arm. "And the material… Is this vibranium? It wasn't vibranium back then."

"Back when..?"

Wilson gets to his feet and walks up to the other side of Steve's bed. As he previously blocked the view, I look out of the window and realize it's night already. I lost all track of time.

"Why is the shape wrong?"

Wilson's question makes me focus again and I stare at the shield. "It wasn't round back then. More rectangular."

"Are you remembering something?"

Why does he sound hopeful? "Maybe, I don't know. What I DO know is that I held this shield in my hands before. I picked it up because Steve was down. Someone took a shot at him." In my mind, I'm riding a train and we're being shot at. Steve goes down, I pick up the shield and try to take out our assailant. Suddenly the enemy fires, hits the shield, and the blow catapults me out off the train. The impact also pulls my mind back into the present and I shake my head, trying to free myself of these unsettling thoughts.

"What did you remember?"

Wilson sounds excited and gives me an expectant look. "I don't know. I was on some train and…" Trying to gather my thoughts I look out of the window again and at the night's sky. The moon appears from behind large and dark clouds and I absentmindedly register that it's a full moon tonight. It's lucid and brilliant. Something blinks in the moonlight and my mind clicks into survival mode.

"Sniper!" I call out and react at once. I raise the shield, cover Steve with my body, and carefully roll him into a corner. At the same time, the glass of the window explodes, sending shards in every direction. Several bullets bury themselves in the mattress, some hit the wall and one or two come dangerously close to injuring him. "Get out," I yell at Wilson, who stands there seemingly paralyzed. "He's safe with me!" Using my arm and Steve's shield as cover, I curl myself around him and pray the bullets will hit me instead of him.

Wilson finally gets moving and retreats into the corridor. He's fortunate they didn't target him; he wouldn't have survived with such slow reflexes. Another salvo sends bullets into the wall above us and several ricochet off the shield, which saves us once again. An impact against my left arm tells me they're still trying to hit their target and they don't care if I'm in the way. If it's Hydra, they no longer care about getting me back, otherwise they wouldn't risk killing me in the process.

"What's happening?"

Romanoff peeks around the corner, but quickly retreats when the bullets move toward her instead.

"Snipers, at least three of them, opposite building," I inform her. "We're safe in here for now, but you need to take them out." If the snipers are smart, they'll pack up and get the hell out of that building, but then again, if they think they have nothing left to lose, they might continue to shoot at us until they're out of ammunition. Only one bullet needs to hit its mark and even Steve might not survive. "Move it!" I tell her.

"Buck…?"

Damn, he's awake, although it's not really surprising, considering the way I practically slammed him into the wall. "Snipers," I whisper and pull the shield even closer and using my arm to reflect more bullets. "Don't move, stay down, and wait it out." Those blues focus on me and he nods. Thankfully he remains calm and doesn't try to free himself. "We're safe for now." Thanks to his shield. A moment later, the firing stops, but I don't move yet as it may be a ploy on the snipers' part. "We're waiting for the all safe, you hear me?"

"I'm not protesting," Steve whispers back and smiles at me. "Still saving my butt from the bullies, Buck?"

I don't know what he means by that, so I let it go. "It's probably Hydra trying to get back at you. They must really hate you." But I don't. Hydra's assassin, the Winter Soldier, suddenly wants to protect the enemy at all cost. That must have stunned Hydra, and probably infuriated them too. I can't rule out the possibility we are both targets now and not just Steve.

"Yeah, I tend to get onto their nerves," Steve jokes.

It's beyond me how he can still joke about it. "You should take this more seriously."

"I have you to protect me now, don't I?"

I shake my head at his reasoning. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"I doubt it." Steve peeks above the shield. "Looks like it's clear."

"We're waiting for the official signal," I tell him. "This might be a trap, luring us into a sense of safety and then opening fire again." Steve's smile takes me aback. The way he looks at me… He looked at me like that before – but the memory is gone before it can fully manifest. I'm growing aware of one thing though; the two of us have a history together.

"We secured the building," Fury calls from the corridor. "They committed suicide before we could get to them. It's safe to come out. Do you hear me, Barnes? I'm coming inside. Don't attack me. I'm a friend."

"He really respects you," Steve says and winks at me.

I ignore his cheekiness and lower the shield a bit. Fury steps into the room, looking rather worried. When nothing happens, I put the shield against the wall, but I don't get up yet. If they missed a sniper, I can still protect Steve.

"It's safe," Fury reassures me again. "We checked the building and the roof. "I'm certain we got them."

"Was it Hydra?" I need to know.

"Looks like it, yes." Fury advances on me and lowers himself onto his heels. "How's Steve doing? Any new injuries?"

"He didn't get hit," that's one thing I'm sure of, "But I might have injured him, grabbing and pulling him onto the floor like that." Judging the situation safe, I slowly uncurl and get to my feet. The sling has to go and I slip it from my neck. I need to be mobile and even consider destroying the cast right there and then. "Careful now," I tell Steve, who's trying to get up and distracting me.

"My injures are healing," he says, sounding a bit offended. "I'm NOT an invalid. I'll be fully healed shortly."

I believe him, but until then he's under supervision. I want to tell him to get into bed and rest, when I realize there isn't much left of said bed. "Stay down, will you? Just stay seated and don't make this harder than it is."

"Yes, sir," Steve quips and lowers himself onto the floor again.

I don't like that look in his eyes; he's up to something. "You might want to secure a new room for him. He can't stay here," I suggest, not sure what Fury's next move will be. The adrenaline will soon wear off, but right now, I'm on full alert. I don't know why Fury is studying me instead of checking on Steve, but there's something in his eye that makes me shiver. It's like I'm being evaluated all over again.

"I want to go home," Steve states in a firm tone. "I don't want to stay here."

"You won't be much safer at home," Fury cautions him, finally looking at Steve and shaking his head at him. "We can get you a safe house to hide at."

"No, I want to go home. Hydra will find me anywhere. I'd rather be at home, where I know what direction they might be coming from."

"You can't even stand on your feet without support. You should listen to your superior," I tell him. I hate looking down at him and sit down next to him.

"Nick isn't my superior. He may think that, but… I'm my own man and I want to go home."

And what will happen to me then, I wonder? If Steve goes home, where does that leave me?

"You're coming with me!" Steve suddenly grabs my left hand and holds on tight, repeating his action from the river side.

"Shield might have something to say about," I temper him. "You forget so easily who I am."

"No, never!" Steve glares at me. "Shield can't have you. Hydra can't have you. You belong with me!"

"Why are you so damn determined to do this? I tried to kill you not so long ago. Not once, but twice. I tried to kill you when we fought on that bridge. You were my target and I had to complete my mission!"

"But you couldn't finish me off. You couldn't kill me, why?"

I look away and stare at the floor. He found the one weakness to my reasoning.

"I would like to know that too," Fury says and pulls up a chair to sit down.

In the back, I hear Wilson shuffling inside and he gasps at the sight of destruction Hydra left behind. I owe them an answer, but how do I explain the inexplicable? "When you were down," I start, feeling nervous, "all I could think of was protecting you. I saw a face similar to yours, but younger, thinner and… Something told me I had protected you back then as well."

"But there's more," Fury observes, urging me on.

"Yeah, there is." I rest the back of my head against the wall and stare at the ceiling. They even managed to demolish that. Those snipers sucked –fortunately for Steve. "When you dislocated my shoulder and broke my arm, the pain weakened Hydra's conditioning. It enabled me to push him away."

"Him?" Steve gives me a puzzled look.

"The Winter Soldier." Will they understand? "I can't control him. Hydra does."

"I figured as much. Nathasha studied some of the Hydra files we found on you. We're still sorting the information. I want to know what happened to you during these last few decades."

Hopefully that means I'm safe for the moment. "What are your plans for me?" Steve's presence, and the fact that I have his support makes me bold enough to ask Fury that question. Without Steve backing me up, I would never dare addressing Fury in such a way.

"Apparently you're moving in with Rogers. It's a good thing that Steve's apartment has a guestroom or it might get crowded in there." Fury gets to his feet, but beckons us to stay down. "We're going to move you out, but first I want the medical staff to check on you."

"Nick, I'm fine. I'm already healing up. It's just a matter of time before I'm back on my feet."

"I don't care," Fury states and straightens to his full length. "Medical check first, and on you too, Barnes."

Maybe then Collins will remove the cast? But I quickly dismiss the thought. The guy won't be swayed that easily. Fury leaves and Wilson hovers near the doorway, talking to someone in the corridor. That allows me a moment alone with Steve. "Thank you for keeping me out of Shield's hands." I know I escaped a fate similar to what would have awaited me if Hydra had gotten their hands on me. Without Steve, I'd probably be interrogated right now, or tortured for information. Steve promptly squeezes my hand.

"No, I should be thanking you for saving my life just now. How did you know I was in danger?"

"A reflection betrayed the snipers. They were careless. Moonlight is just as dangers as sunlight. Both will betray your position."

"You didn't think twice and just jumped him, didn't you?" Wilson quips.

Wilson is back and butting in. I shrug – carefully, as my shoulder still troubles me. "It was obvious he was the target. What was I supposed to do? Inform you first so you could take action? I'm trained to act, not react. I didn't think it through. Did I hurt you? I tried to absolve most of the impact, but…"

"I'm fine," Steve says reassuringly.

"Damn, you moved fast," Wilson adds as he sits down on the floor opposite us. "I had no idea what was happening at first, why you were acting like that. Until the bullets started to fly, that is."

"I did that before, didn't I?" I look Steve in the eye. "Protect you, I mean?"

"You saved my life countless times, yes. And you didn't hesitate back then either."

"I wish I remembered that." I really do. I want to know what binds me to this man. Why do I want to protect him so badly? What's my history with him? And why does he care that much about me?

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Works keeps me busy at the moment. Expect more at the end of the weekend.

Part 4

Collins silently puts a new sling in place and guides my arm into it. He plainly refused to remove the cast and scolded me for acting so ruthlessly. I simply absolved the lecture, thinking the guy maybe cares a little too much about his patients. Steve's doctor, Davis, isn't scolding him. Instead, the physician is pleading with him to stay at the hospital for supervision. Steve refuses though and demonstratively changes into regular clothes, ditching the hospital gown. It's good that he's mobile again, even though he's still moving slowly.

I'm stuck with the morning robe since no one returned my jacket to me. I wouldn't mind ditching the robe, but I hate being cold. Maybe I should ask for my jacket?

"Here, you might want this," Wilson says and hands me a sweater.

It's black, comfortable, and a challenge to get into.

"Let me help."

I accept Wilson's help and manage to put on the sweater. I instantly feel better, being covered up and warm. I wait for additional instructions now that they're taking Steve home. I still think it's a mistake; Hydra doubtlessly knows about his apartment and they will be waiting for him. I'm not sure I can keep him safe all the time.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Wilson asks Steve. "Why not opt for Fury's safe house instead?"

Inwardly I applaud him, but I keep quiet. The decision isn't up to me.

"I can't run from Hydra. I have to stand up and face them. You know that."

"At least wait until you're fully healed! Crash at my place for all I care!"

I can tell that Wilson won't succeed in changing Steve's mind. Steve is determined to do this his way.

"No, Sam. Thanks for the offer, but I want to go home."

Steve smiles gently at Sam. "I need him to remember me," Steve explains and then shifts his gaze toward me. "I have a lot of our old stuff at the apartment and I hope it will trigger your memory."

I'm at a loss; what do I say about that? That my memory is a black hole filled with even more black holes with memories falling through and disappearing? "You shouldn't get your hopes up," I settle for in the end. Yes, I want my memory back, but at the moment I'm thrilled to just be away from Hydra and to be offered a safe haven at Steve's apartment.

"Are we ready to move?"

I expect Fury to collect us, but instead it's that other agent. I struggle to remember his name and cringe at realizing it's gone. I lower my head, draw in a deep breath, and try to stay calm. It's normal for me to forget things, I remind myself. It's a miracle I'm capable of remembering most names.

"What's wrong?"

Steve suddenly appears next to me and instinctively I reach out to steady him as he's still wobbly. Maybe we should get him a wheelchair and wheel him out of the hospital. I doubt he'll go along with it though.

"Buck, what's wrong?"

He's not giving up, so I lower my head and whisper, "I forgot his name. Who is he?"

"His name is Coulson, Phil Coulson," Steve replies in a calm fashion.

"Phil Coulson." I try to memorize the name, but it's already slipping through my fingers. "I'm going to forget it again."

"Then I'll tell you all over again. Don't worry about it."

"Gentlemen, please follow me."

Coulson probably overheard our little talk because he gives me the oddest look ever. Maybe he dislikes the fact that I wrapped my left arm around Steve's shoulder in order to support him? Maybe I should put some distance between us? What if he thinks I'm a threat to Steve? Deciding to play it safe, I step away from Steve, who sways and grabs onto me in turn.

"Stay," Steve tells me. "I don't want to embarrass myself by taking a nosedive."

I avoid looking at Coulson and stare at the floor instead. Once Steve starts to move, I fall into pace with him. Stepping into the corridor, I grow aware of the armed guards, ready to take us… where? The elevator?

"We're going up, gentlemen," Coulson informs us, grinning. "It's good to see you back on your feet, Captain. You had me worried for a moment."

"It's not that easy to keep me down, Phil. Thanks for worrying."

Coulson's smile is almost blinding; Steve really made him happy. I still wonder what Wilson meant with a 'groupie'. A chopper awaits us on the roof and I quickly shoo Steve inside. I don't like this at all. This is the perfect moment for Hydra to make its move. I sit down next to him and quickly remove the sling. Now that Collins can't lecture me, I really want to get rid of it. Steve gives me an admonishing look, but doesn't comment on it. The cast has to go too shortly. I'll wait for a bit more privacy for that.

We take off and I observe the world beneath us. I never was a part of it and don't feel like I belong in it. I feel out of time, out of life, and wonder what the future holds for me.

0000

The moment the chopper touches down, I study the surrounding buildings for possible hide outs for snipers. I am a sniper myself and know what to look for. I used one of those buildings for shelter myself when I took out Fury. I mentally map those locations and will keep an eye on them.

"Bucky, give me a hand, will you?"

Steve asking for my help to get off the chopper pulls me away from my thoughts and I help him onto solid ground. Coulson walks us into the building and precedes us descending the staircase to Steve's apartment. I keep quiet and try to blend in, not drawing any attention to my person. A blond woman stands in the corridor, waiting for us, and she smiles at Steve once she sees him.

"It's good to have you back, Captain."

"Thanks, Sharon. It's good to be back."

And that's about it, he passes her by, and reaches for the door. "Maybe I should check the apartment first," I suggest softly, not wanting to appear forward, but I would feel better knowing it's safe for him to enter.

"We already checked it out, sergeant Barnes," Coulson says, turning around. "I assure you it's perfectly safe."

I back down, always keeping in mind I'm dealing with a representative of a powerful organization who can do away with me in an instant.

"I trust Phil," Steve informs me. "If something happens to me on his watch, he'll never forgive himself for it."

If Steve believes that, it has to do for me too. Although, I WILL check on the place the first chance I get.

"We even removed the ears," Coulson says. "At the time we thought it was necessary for your safety, but breaching your privacy isn't worth it. The director didn't agree with me at first, but he relented later."

"Thanks, Phil, you're a good friend. Keep an eye on Sam for me, will you?"

I'm surprised that Wilson didn't join us. I don't know if that's Wilson's idea or if Steve suggested it to him. The thought that it will be just the two of us once Coulson is gone worries me. What if I hurt him again? I can't be trusted as I don't trust my own mind to begin with. I'm not suggesting that Wilson stays with us, though. That's not my call to make; I know my place in the grand scheme of things.

"I'm sure Sam will visit shortly. I have to leave now. With director Fury officially out of the picture, most of the formalities fall onto me. I agree with him though; strategically staying dead is an excellent choice. He can accomplish a great deal more by working from the shadows. It was a pleasure assisting you, Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes, I'm sure we will meet again."

I watch him climb the stairs and then look at Steve. "What's a groupie?" Unexpectedly Steve bursts out into laughter and I tighten my hold on him, afraid it will make him lose his footing.

"Who told you that?" He continues to chuckle as he uncovers the key to his apartment and unlocks the door.

"Wilson did. He said that Coulson was your groupie." I am on full alert when he opens the door, always expecting an attack. Nothing happens though.

"Phil is a fan of Captain America. He simply respects me a great deal. Let's leave it at that, yes?"

Sure, if that's what he wants. I step into the apartment and let him take the lead. I carefully map the layout of the place and help him sit down on the couch once we reach the living room. What's going to happen now? I look about and wait for instructions.

"Why don't you sit down for a moment?"

I'm fine with that and sit down next to Steve. I study the opposite wall and see some framed newspaper clippings on the wall. There are some pictures as well, but nothing overwhelming. The place feels calm, for which I'm grateful. Peaceful surroundings help me stay calm in turn. The room feels comfortable, although the furniture seems a bit dated. It suits me though. I prefer this to the hospital room any day.

"Do you like it here?"

I nod. It's peaceful, sparsely furnished, and the fact that everything is in plain view helps settle my nerves. "I do."

"I'll show you around in a bit. I just need to catch my breath."

Steve shifts a little closer and reaches for my left hand, curling his fingers around it. The touch helps me calm down. "I never react well to new surroundings," I explain, "But this might be the exception."

"I have a guestroom you can use. We need to share the bathroom, but I'm sure we'll manage. I'm not good at cooking, and if a dish goes wrong, we can order in."

I listen to him talk and briefly close my eyes. I can't believe this is really happening. Steve squeezes my hand and I open my eyes again, sighing deeply. "I can't believe this is real," I confess, wanting him to know how much he changed my life for the better. "If Hydra had found me after I failed to execute you, I would be in a great deal of pain by now. They don't accept failure, you see." Steve pulls my hand into his lap and I'm surprised at how easily he touches that metal arm. "They expect me to return to them as quickly as possible. I didn't do that. I took care of you instead."

"Go on," Steve says encouragingly. "You can tell me everything."

I know that. God help me, but I know I can trust him. "I'd be back in cryo right now." Shivers travel down my spine and the cold sneaks up on me again. It permeates my bones and causes me to shiver. "I hate the cold."

"Here, use this." Steve briefly lets go and unfolds a quilt, covering me with it and tucking it around me. "You feel cold to the touch."

It's my mind playing tricks on my body, I know that, but it's hard to push through the manipulation. "I don't know why you want me here. I'm a danger to you. What if the conditioning activates and I try to kill you again?"

"You won't kill me. You might pummel me a bit, but you won't be able to end my life. We both know that after what happened on that helicarrier. I'm confident I can snap you out if it, should it ever happen."

His trust in me is something I don't share. "You can't trust me, you need to remember that."

"I trust you with my life," he says in an emotional tone, which makes me look at him. "You saved my life earlier tonight. How can you possibly think you can kill me?"

I return to staring at the wall. "You don't know me."

"Oh, I DO know you. I know who you are. I know what you're like and I have complete faith in you."

Then he's a fool. I'll make sure to lock my room at night and maybe set up some booby traps to stop me from sneaking into his. I can't take any risks where Steve is involved.

0000

"What do you want to do?" Steve asks after ten silent minutes passed by. "It's four in the morning. We can catch up on our sleep or stay up."

I look at him in confusion. Why is he asking ME that? "What do you want to do?" I'm good at follow orders, not decision making.

"Come on, help me to my feet. I'll show you around and then we'll get some sleep. It's been a busy night for both of us."

Steve moves and I grab onto him in order to support him, but I'm under the impression he doesn't need my help. He's recovering at an incredible rate, which reminds me, I do need to get rid of the cast.

"The bathroom is over there," Steve says and points at a door. "If you want to take a bath, be my guest. It can be rather relaxing. Over there is the kitchen and that's the guestroom. I'll show you."

I follow him about, and as he opens the door, I peek into the guestroom. It's larger than I thought and the bed looks comfortable. As far as I'm concerned it is perfect.

"You can lock the door if you want to. The key is right here. That's up to you. You need your privacy, I know that, because I need mine too."

Privacy, it's an alien concept. I haven't had any privacy in decades. "It'll do nicely."

"Get some sleep, will you? I'll check on you in a couple of hours and we'll eat then. If you need me, for whatever reason, just come and get me. I'm fine with that. That's what friends do, they support each other."

I won't disturb him as he needs his rest too. "I'll walk you to your room." That way I know where his bed is situated and I can check out the room itself, just in case Hydra makes a move. Steve looks like he's about to object, but then he nods and pulls me along. I check the location of the windows, possible escape routes and entry points and realize Steve chose this apartment for a reason. Steve opens the door and I walk him over to the bed. Again, I check the window and any high rises snipers might use for shelter. The building I used to take my shot at Fury from, has been closed off to the public. The windows and doors on the roof are barred. It won't per se stop a sniper, but it will slow them down. I'll keep my eye on that roof, just in case, though I doubt Hydra uses the same shelter twice. It's too predictable.

"Satisfied?" Steve sits down on the bed and gives me a knowing look.

"The apartment is adequate." I remain standing next to the bed and wonder what to do. "You should close the curtains though. No reason to give anyone an advantage."

"Go ahead, close them if that makes you feel more at ease."

I walk over to the window, make sure it's secure, and close the curtains. I turn around and find Steve stretched out on his side on the bed. I reach for the comforter and cover him with it. "Is there anything else you need?"

Steve smiles and says, "Can you get me some bottled water from the kitchen? I'm thirsty. I want you to feel at home here, so if you're hungry eat, and if you want some milk, go ahead. This is your new home. Everything I own, is yours."

I don't know how to react to such a generous offer and quickly retreat. "I'll get you that water." I practically flee into the kitchen, and on my way over there, I realize Coulson placed the shield on the kitchen table. Maybe I should take it to Steve, he might want it close in case of an attack. I pick up the bottled water, reach for the shield, and wonder about the familiar feel of it. Well, there's no use on reminiscing on a past I don't remember.

I return to Steve's bedroom and find him sound asleep. I place the shield next to the bed and the bottled water onto the nightstand. How can he go to sleep like that with me being in the same room? Doesn't he know how dangerous I am? But no, the idiot trusts me instead, just because I saved him earlier tonight.

With Steve being asleep I'm left to my own devices and I feel lost. What am I supposed to do? Steve probably expects me to get some sleep too, but I'm much too riled up to relax. So I leave the door to his bedroom ajar and move into the living room. I move through the living room and look at the newspaper clippings in detail. It's old stuff, stemming from the second world war. I recognize Steve and he's holding his shield. He looks proud and accomplished and I can't help but grin. He looks cocky.

I scan the text, but it doesn't make much sense as I have no idea who these howling commandos are. I skip the remaining text and move onto the next picture. It shows Steve again, but this time he's talking to a dark-haired man who's smiling back at him. They look like good friends, old friends probably, for they seem rather comfortable around each other. The stranger looks vaguely familiar. It's the eyes – those blue eyes. They resemble mine a bit, but just a little bit. Feeling confused, I turn away from the framed pictures and walk toward the window instead. The park beneath me is still asleep, save for one or two joggers. I scan the trees, searching for Hydra agents, but find nothing. This is a location I would have chosen for my shelter. It offers a perfect view all around. So what do I do now?

I don't want to go to sleep, although I must admit to being tired. I move back into the kitchen and come to a halt in front of the fridge. Steve did tell me I could have some food, or milk, which I haven't had in years. I remember liking its taste though. I look about, making sure I'm really alone and slowly open the fridge, not wanting to make any noise that might wake up Steve. Yes, there's a milk bottle inside. I remove it and place it on the kitchen table. It's half full. Do I need a glass or can I drink straight from the bottle? I should probably opt for a glass, which means I need to snoop around the kitchen cupboards and I don't want Steve to think that I'm searching the place.

I need a few minutes to reach a decision – I'm no longer used to making my own decisions and open one of the cupboards. I get lucky and remove a glass. After filling it with some milk, I carefully put the bottle back into the fridge. If I'm lucky, Steve won't notice I drank some. I sit down at the kitchen table and sip. A sudden spasm moves through my neck and an iron clasp moves in place around my brow. A memory, long forgotten, and never really owned, moves into place, showing me Pierce mocking me by offering me milk and knowing damn well my conditioning will never allow me to accept it. Hydra placed the facial mask, that muzzle, tightly in place, making it impossible for me to eat and drink – or talk. I push the glass away from me, wrap my fingers around my head, and ride out the agony I'm in.

It's nothing new; memories trying to find the right spot to settle down in and it always hurts, but normally my handlers are close and either put me back in cryo or strap me into the machine again. This is the first time I'm alone and I need to find a way to deal with it. By the time the pain finally settles down, I'm breathing hard and sweating like mad. If the return of just one memory makes me feel like this what will happen if my memory starts to come back for real?

I don't know how much time passed by, but the first rays of sunlight appear in the still dark sky. Fuck, what if that happens when I'm around people? What if Shield finds out about my problems? Coulson might be Steve's buddy, but that doesn't mean he's mine. What if the guy decides I present a danger to Steve?

I reach for the milk, sip again, and am relieved there's no more chaos in my mind. Looking at the glass in my hands, I'm reminded of that stupid cast. It really has to go, but without creating too much noise. I push my vibranium thumb beneath the cast and use just enough pressure to split it into two. The cast falls onto the kitchen table and I stretch my arm, enjoying my newly found freedom. The arm healed just fine. I spy a trash bin in the corner and dispose of the cast. I feel better already and push back the unpleasant memory of what happened earlier. I don't know what happened, but I can't allow for it to happen again. I need to find a way to control it.

I empty my glass, put it in the sink, as it seems the right thing to do, and head for the guestroom. I'd rather stay close to Steve, but if I leave my door wide open, I have a good view of his bedroom and his door is still ajar. What happened to booby trapping the place and locking myself in the room as I intended earlier? I look about the room and walk over to the window. Although there's no danger lurking outside, I feel more at ease after closing the curtains. The sun continues to rise though and the fabric doesn't really lock out the sunlight.

I don't mind though. Hydra's bases are always shrouded in darkness and the cryo chamber… No, I don't want to go back there. I push the thoughts away and stare at the door opening. That way, I'll notice Steve getting up and moving about. I wrap my arms around my waist, feeling strangely lost and utterly alone.

0000

I notice the movement in Steve's bedroom at once. He's pushing back the comforter and slowly sitting up. My first reaction is to jump to my feet and help him, but I temper myself. No use in overwhelming the guy and invading his privacy. This is his apartment, his home, and I'm just a guest.

I didn't get any sleep last night. I felt tense and concentrated on the noises coming from inside and outside the building, always on the lookout for possible threats. The night passed by quietly though and I'm fairly sure he's safe for now. I expect Hydra to launch an attack outside of the apartment and not in here. I surprised Steve when I shot Fury and I'm sure Shield took adequate measures to prevent something similar from happening again, but out there in the streets Steve is vulnerable.

Steve raises his head and looks straight at me. I force myself to return the gaze instead of looking away.

"Morning," Steve mouths and smiles. "You're still here. I wasn't sure you'd stay."

Sighing, I get to my feet and walk into his bedroom. It doesn't do to carry this conversation from such a distance. I remain near the door opening, not wanting him to feel crowded. What he just said hits home. I did consider leaving last night, but the need to protect him outweighed my fears. "Someone needs to look out for you," I tell him, hoping he'll stop at that.

"You have been protecting me most of your life, Buck. I might not need your protection any longer, but I definitely need YOU in my life. I'm glad you stayed."

I settle for nodding at him. What am I supposed to say to that? "What do you want me to do?" I ask, feeling adrift. I'm used to following orders; thinking independently is unusual for me and I hope Steve understands I feel lost.

Steve runs a hand through his messy hair and considers the question. "We should have breakfast first. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

Wilson and I had dinner last night, but Steve didn't as he was still asleep. I'm not sure if I'm any good at making breakfast. It's something I haven't done in decades, but I'll try.

"Hey, did you put it here?" Steve gestures towards the shield.

"I thought you might like it close." Steve nods, proving my point.

"Where did the cast go?" Steve points at my right arm. "Couldn't wait to get rid of it?"

"It was hampering me and the arm's healed. It was no longer necessary."

"Patience never was your strongest character trait." Steve gets to his feet, stretches, and inclines his head toward me. "Feeling reborn."

He moves smoothly and with ease. The injuries he suffered healed and he's fully recovered. It appears we heal equally fast – physically, that is. I don't know if my mind will ever heal. It's feels fractured, much like my arm did. Steve wraps an arm around my shoulder and guides me into the kitchen.

"Sit down," he says and moves toward the counter. "Do you still like coffee? First things first and coffee has absolutely priority."

I don't know if I even like coffee, but I nod anyway. "Fine with me." I want to cause as little inconvenience as possible. "Can I help?" I feel quite useless just sitting here.

"You can make breakfast tomorrow, once you know your way around the kitchen, yes?"

I watch his every move and learn how the coffee maker works, where to find the plates and mugs, the way Steve likes his bacon and eggs, and where he hides the toaster. I try to memorize everything so I can duplicate the procedure tomorrow. The frustrating thing however is, that I can't be sure that by tomorrow I still remember where to find everything.

"Here, try it. You preferred it black."

Steve puts a steaming, hot, mug of coffee in front of me. How does he know I prefer it like that? I wrap my fingers around it and savor the heat it radiates. I don't sip yet as I'm focused on watching his every move. A few minutes later, he places two plates filled with bacon, eggs, and toast onto the table.

"Dig in, you must be hungry too." Steve doesn't waste time and starts on his bacon while putting some butter onto his toast.

I pick up the fork and stare at the bacon and eggs. Rationally I know I should eat, but emotionally it's a challenge. It's allowing a bit of normality back into my life and I'm scared of what will happen when Hydra finds me and takes it away again.

"Is something wrong with the food?" Steve asks sounding suspicious.

"No," I quickly assure him and start on the eggs. The texture of the food, the smells, the sheer availability of it – it once more reminds me how much my life has changed. After I swallowed the first bite, digging in for more is easier. In between bites I sip from the coffee, which is no longer scalding hot. "You're right; I like it."

Steve smiles smugly. "I knew you would."

He settles for eating the rest of his breakfast, but keeps looking at me. Surprisingly I empty my plate and feel pleasantly full. My body probably wonders where all that food is coming from. I place the fork back onto the plate and watch Steve pour more coffee after I nod at him. "This is weird," I confide in him. "This feels like… a normal life." Something I'm definitely not is normal. Nothing about me is normal. "Sitting here, having breakfast with you is… I never knew it was possible." Until recently my life consisted out of being locked up in a cryo chamber, being on a mission, or getting strapped into that hellish machine. "I still can't believe it."

"You'd better believe it," Steve says firmly.

He covers my right hand with his. He feels warm – alive. I doubt it will last though. "Hydra will find me. They'll either execute me for failing them or haul me back to wipe my mind and put me into cryo. I'm scared to believe this will last, do you understand that?"

"I do, but Bucky, I promise you that it WILL last. You're safe with me. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I'm not losing you all over again. I will go to hell and back if necessary."

He sounds determined and I believe him. I also know Hydra though. They may lay low right now, but they will make their move, sooner or later.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Dear readers, I've hit writer's block and would really appreciate some feedback/ideas. Thanks!

Part 5

"Why don't you shower first? I already put some towels and clothes in the bathroom. Use any toiletries you like and if you want to shave, I put out a spare razor too."

For how long have I stared into my empty coffee mug? Steve pulls me back from that dark and lonely place and I look at him in surprise. He looks chipper and gestures toward the bathroom. What did he say? Shower, shave?

"Take as long as you like. We're in no hurry! I'll be here, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee."

"Sure," I give in, but still wondering why he's so damn chipper first thing in the morning. I drag my feet and head for the bathroom. I close the door behind me and find towels, jeans, a t-shirt and a warm sweater already waiting for me. I feel a bit in over my head, to be honest. With Hydra, I wasn't allowed to do much for myself. Shaving was certainly off limits, considering I needed a razor to do so. Hydra didn't like me having access to potential weapons.

Sighing, I strip and quickly turn on the hot water as I'm already shivering because I'm cold. I know it's all in my head, but I have no idea how to defeat the illusion. I step under the hot spray and savor the way the water cradles and cascades down my body. I forgot how relaxing taking a shower can be, and I remind myself that I'm supposed to clean myself up. I grab one of the bottles, find it holds shampoo, and pour some into my hands. It's the first time in ages I'm allowed to do this myself. I always hated Rumlow cleaning me up. He always leered at me and enjoyed being in control too much.

It's always like that. My mind shows me bits and pieces, fragments of the past with no solid connection to the time the memory happened at. Most of the time it's a smell, touch, or a sound that will evoke them. I place my hands against the tiled wall and wait for the memory to pass. I draw in a steadying breath and continue washing my hair. I really need to figure out how to control these episodes.

I rinse my hair, bow my head, and just let the water pour down my body. In a way it feels like the water is purifying me. Not that anything can wash the blood off my hands. I know what I am – a killer, a cold-blooded assassin, at least half of me is.

I shut off the water, reach for a towel, and dry my hair before moving onto my body. This feels… It's beyond words. The sense of freedom is overwhelming. I doubt an ordinary person understands how much this means to me; being able to shower without supervision or having to endure someone running his hands all over my body. Steve gave me back some control and I'm grateful for it.

Stepping out of the shower stall, I reach for the underwear; a pair of black boxers. It could be worse, I guess. I put them on, slip into the jeans, which seem to fit. After putting on the t-shirt and sweater, I turn around and find myself facing a mirror. I quickly look away. I don't like looking at that face.

Steve supplied me with a razor and shaving cream, but I don't touch the items. The facial hair doesn't worry me and I'm not ready to look at myself in detail. It can stay. There's a toothbrush next to the razor and I find some toothpaste as well, so I brush my teeth. I fight the tears forming in my eyes. I'm not going to shed tears over this, but the fact is that I feel like starting my life all over again – in freedom this time. I tidy up behind me and check if everything is back in place before stepping out of the bathroom. I don't want Steve to regret inviting me into his home.

I close the door behind me and check on Steve's whereabouts. He's exactly where I left him – at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading. A quick look at the clock tells me cleaning up took me twenty minutes and that strikes me as way too long. Hydra always moved faster. "Bathroom is all yours," I inform him, as I'm not sure what to do next.

"Great! I'll be quick!"

Steve marches into the bathroom, closes the door behind him, and a moment later the shower comes back on. That leaves me standing in the middle of the living room, wondering what the hell I'm supposed to do. In the end, I head for the couch and sit down. I once more find myself looking at the wall with the framed pictures and newspaper clippings. The brown-haired man really resembles me a lot. I wonder who he is.

Next I spy the photo album on the coffee table and I wonder if Steve left it there on purpose. It wasn't there when I crossed the living room to have breakfast earlier. I shift forward and study the pages. The right page shows Steve, I recognize him at once. Next to him, smiling, is the dark-haired man from the framed picture. The left page holds a photo depicting two young boys; one of them is blond, really skinny and small too, and the other boy is dark-haired; he resembles the man in the other pictures.

I wonder why Steve keeps these around. There's only one reason I can think of; that dark-haired man means something to him. I'm hesitant to touch Steve's personal belongings, so I shift forward on the couch in order to read the words written below the first picture. It says; together until the end. I flashback to the moment on the helicarrier when Steve told me something similar to that. He said he would be with me till the end of the line.

I long to flip the pages and to look at more pictures, but it's private and I'm not crossing that line. Instead I get to my feet and walk over to the wall. There are more pictures of Steve and that dark-haired man. They must have been really good friends. The last frame shows another newspaper clipping and I lean in closer to read it.

#Captain America and the Howling Commando's ventured behind enemy lines and freed two hundred of our men; soldiers, whom we had assumed lost to us. Special credit goes to Sergeant Barnes who cleared the way for his comrades. An excellent sharpshooter, he took out most of the enemy's first line of defense.#

I blink in surprise. I know that name. Coulson called me that – Barnes, Sergeant Barnes to be exact. Steve told me that it's my real name. My head reels and I stare at the man in that old black and white photograph. I know Hydra kept me with them for decades. Can this be real? Am I really the man in that picture? But how can that be?

Why would Steve lie? What would he gain by telling me lies? What if this is the truth? What if I am really that man?

"Bucky?"

Steve's sudden presence surprises me and I barely restrain myself from slamming him into the wall. It's a gut reflex; after all those missions Hydra sent me on my fighting skills are honed to perfection. I stop myself just in time though. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" Steve moves in front of me.

"Sneak up on me. I might hurt you."

"Why?"

"Because I'm trained to fight and not to ask questions." I tear my eyes away from the picture frame and pretend ignorance. I want to return to the couch, but Steve blocks my path. He still looks chipper and his eyes gleam with life. I envy him his peace of mind.

"That's you, Buck. Did you figure that out yet?" Steve points at the dark-haired man in the picture. "It was taken right after we freed those troops and it was front page news. We couldn't have done it without you. You managed to locate those damn snipers and you took them all out. Frenchie got hit on that mission. Nothing serious, but we could have lost men that night."

"Are you saying that…" I look at the photo again. "Is that me?" I can't believe it.

Steve calmly nods. "That's you. You were part of the Howling Commando's. You were our resident sniper. You saved a lot of lives during the war. When you left to fight in that war, I had no idea how great a shot you were. I only found out… later."

That's not what he wanted to say. He kept back at the last moment. Steve wanted to say something else, but then reconsidered. I'm not going to ask and open a can of worms by doing so. If he believes it's better that I don't know, I trust him on that. "I have no memories of that time. How can you be sure that I'm Sergeant Barnes?"

"You know me, don't you?"

I hold my breath when Steve raises his left hand and rests it against my chest, close to my heart. What is he doing?

"You told me that you know me in here. What does that tell you? We've been best friends since childhood. Let's sit down and I'll tell you how we first met. Let me return some memories to you."

I'm not sure what he's up to, but I sit down on the couch next to him. Steve picks up the photo album and puts it in my lap. "You DID leave it out on purpose, didn't you?" I ask him.

"I did. I hoped you'd grow curious. Back then, taking pictures wasn't as common as it is today and this is one of the few photos I've got of us as kids."

Steve points at the picture I had been looking at earlier. I have a hard time accepting that boy is supposed to be me. For some reason I never considered actually having a childhood. My memories of that time are nonexistent. I don't know why, but I always assumed that Hydra created me.

"My mum took that picture. We had moved and I started a new school that day. I was incredibly nervous. As you can see I was a scrawny kid, not very attractive, and in a way, I was terribly shy. Don't get me wrong, I always got involved when bullies appeared on the scene, but I was bad at making friends. That day, I walked into a new classroom and each time I wanted to sit down next to someone, they blocked the chair, put their bag on it, or rested their feet on it. I was obviously unwanted."

I am sorry to hear that. That must have sucked, but why is he telling me that?

"Then I reached the last available chair and I expected to be rejected again, but this time, the kid actually moved the chair toward me and told me to park my ass on it, which got him a reprimand from the teacher, but he didn't care. He smiled at me, offered me his hand, and welcomed me to the school."

"Nice kid," I whisper, once Steve looks expectantly at me.

"His name was James. James Buchanan Barnes, but he told me to call him Bucky. That day we became friends and he was the best friend I could have wished for. I thought no one would accept me or want me about, but he stayed close during break times and when the bullies moved in, he told them off." Steve sighs and his fingertips lovingly move across the photo. "You have no idea how much you changed my life that day. Finally, for the very first time, I had a friend I could hang with. It didn't matter what stupidity I got myself into, you always got me out."

I have a hard time believing the things he tells me, but what reason can he possibly have for lying? "I don't remember any of that," I admit and then add, feeling incredibly lacking, "I always assumed Hydra created me in their labs." Steve's hand suddenly moves towards mine and he wraps his fingers around mine. The touch surprises the hell out of me and I barely keep myself from jumping to my feet.

"Hydra didn't create you. You were my best friend for many years." Steve looks at the picture again and smiles. "During that first year, I got ill. Back then I was a sickly kid, prone to colds, pneumonia, asthma – you name it, I suffered from it. That winter I caught a really bad cold and I was bedridden. My mum had to go to work though. She was a nurse and felt torn whenever she left me alone, but I told her to see her patients. After she left, you'd sneak in and sit with me. You'd bring books and read them to me. I loved listening to you; your voice was very soothing. I'm afraid I often fell asleep on you though you never seemed to mind. You'd tuck me in and keep me warm."

It sounds real and I believe that he believes it, but does that make it the truth? Am I really James Buchanan Barnes? Am I Steve's childhood friend? Why can't I remember any of it then?

"When you turned fifteen, you talked me into going to Coney Island to ride the rollercoaster there. You dragged me onto the Cyclone and I screamed my heart out. Later, I threw up and you held my hand while I spilled my guts. I loved the ride, but my system couldn't take it. Later, as adults, you accused me of getting payback for it. I made you land on a moving train."

Something inside my brain clicks into motion. Wheels start turning and a part of my mind, which lay dormant until a moment again, suddenly fills with images. I gasp, finding myself on top of a mountain. Steve stands next to me and we're going to land on a moving train. I remember being nervous, because this was serious. It wasn't a rollercoaster ride.

"Bucky?"

Steve's fingers tighten around mine and the motion helps me focus. "I think I remember that. I stood on a mountain and stared at a moving train below me. You were there too. You smiled at me."

"That's great. You remembered that."

"Why do I only remember things related to that train?" I don't expect an answer; I'm just pondering the matter aloud. "I wore a uniform… Not that of the Winter Soldier though… it was different."

"Does it look like that?"

Steve flips some pages and I find myself looking at a picture of Sergeant Barnes fully dressed for battle. "Yes, like that." I run a fingertip over the picture and try to make sense of the things Steve told me just now. Am I really Sergeant Barnes? But Hydra…

"I know it's a lot to take in. Take your time. I'm relieved you're remembering something, no matter how little. It proves that you are Bucky, doesn't it?"

Maybe it does, I remain suspicious though. "He seems like a good man."

"Bucky, you ARE a good man. Give it time, will you?" Steve removes a picture showing the two of us standing arm in arm and puts it into my left hand. "That's yours. Our names are on the back, just in case you forget and need to remember."

"I can't –"

"Yes, you can. I want you to have it. It's yours."

I never owned a thing before – at least not that I can remember. I turn the picture around and see the names written there; Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. "I can't believe I am he," I confess. "He seems like a good person and I'm not… I'm a killer."

"You ARE a good person, Bucky. Don't let Hydra manipulate you into thinking otherwise."

I remain undecided. Steve seems convinced that I'm his former best friend, and a good man on top of that. The only things that prove him right are two sets of fragmented memories showing me only parts of the past. I can't recall ever feeling this torn before.

0000

The buzzing intercom makes me jump to my feet. I retreated into the guestroom as I needed some time to make sense of the things Steve told me. The loud buzzer rips through the silence and gets the adrenaline flowing through my veins. Suddenly I'm on full alert. I walk over to the doorway and watch Steve use the intercom to find out more.

"You're always welcome. Come on up, Sam."

Sam… Does he mean Sam Wilson? Or is it a different Sam? I waver and remain near the doorway. Maybe Steve wants his privacy.

"You remember Sam, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. I destroyed his wings." And I still feel bad about that, but there's nothing I can do about it.

"Don't worry about that. Tony's already designing him new wings, stronger ones, which won't tear that easily."

I have no idea who this Tony is. I don't think I heard the name before, but I can't be sure about that. He gestures me to join him, so I walk up to him. I'll take my leads from him. A moment later the door opens and Sam moves inside. Yes, I remember the guy, which is a relief. It's odd that I haven't forgotten about him.

"Looking good!" Sam greets us and shakes Steve's hand enthusiastically.

He smiles at me as well, which unsettles me. What does he want from me?

"Are you interested in going for some coffee? I met a new barista at your coffee shop downstairs and you should try her coffee!"

"Are you interested in her or in the coffee?" Steve winks at him, walks toward the door, and picks up two coats.

He hands me one; I follow his example and put it on. It's a decent fit. Is he really leaving the apartment? Doesn't he know how dangerous it is to expose himself like that? Hydra will be there waiting for him.

"Coffee sounds great." Steve steps out into the corridor, closely followed by Sam. "Aren't you coming along, Buck?"

Do I really have to spell it out to him? "Hydra is waiting for you out there. Are you going to make it that easy for them?" How am I supposed to keep him safe on those streets?

"We can't hide in here, Buck. I'm not afraid of Hydra – not at the moment. We defeated them." I have no idea what he's talking about and Steve must have noticed, because he adds, "I'll tell you later. Just believe me when I say that Hydra's down for now."

I still don't believe it, but I can't let him go outside without me watching his back. That's my job. Don't ask me how I know that, I just do. I follow them toward the elevator, which we ride down. Now that we're approaching the exit, my nerves go wild. The street's full and busy when we step outside and there's no way I can scan the buildings for possible threats. The sheer number of people, the skyscrapers, the traffic noise, it all gets to me and I lean against the wall for support. Too much input – this is sensory overload.

"Bucky?"

Steve's hands settle on my shoulders and I force myself to look at him, as I know it will help me calm down. He looks calm and in control and I need to know he's in charge. "I just need a moment," I whimper and try to recompose myself.

"What's happening?" Sam asks in a concerned tone.

How do I explain this to them? "It's different when the Winter Soldier goes on a mission. He's used to this. I'm not… Sometimes I feel like I never really left that cryo tube." I didn't explain it right, but the words fail me. Thankfully the pressure in my head is lessening and I grow accustomed to the madness surrounding me. "I'm fine," I tell them once I feel more in control.

"We can go home," Steve offers, looking worried as well.

Although the offer is tempting, I can't accept it. "No, we're doing this." Steve's right; we can't hide from this. If Hydra comes for us, we have to find a way to deal with them. Hiding isn't something Sergeant Barnes would do – I guess. Steve's reassuring nod tells me that it is the right decision to make.

"You're not alone in this." Steve promptly loops his arm with mine and pulls me along. "We're having some coffee and maybe we'll go for a stroll in the park. Does that sound doable?"

"We'll find out." I feel calmer now, probably because Steve is close. How can I possibly be of use to him should Hydra attack? What if I freeze up again? Without me noticing it, they maneuvered me into a coffee shop.

"Why don't you sit down?" Sam suggests. "And let us get your coffee."

"Nothing fancy though," Steve remarks. "I doubt he'll drink anything but Americano."

"Then that's what we're ordering. Just stay here. We'll be right back."

I watch Steve and Sam make their way over to the counter and place their order. Now that I'm inside I feel less crowded. It's worse out in the streets. They return a few minutes later, carrying two odd looking coffees and one plain one, which is hopefully meant for me.

"Here, you'll like it."

Steve puts the Americano in front of me and I mumble a thank you. Looking about, I realize it will be a long time before I feel comfortable leaving the apartment. This world is alien to me. This is something normal people do, not me.

"Care to tell me what's on your mind?" Sam asks, digging for more information.

"You probably do this every day," I start, not wanting to make myself vulnerable, but at the same time, this needs out. "This is normal to you, but it isn't for me. You don't know what my life was like with Hydra." To my surprise, Sam nods.

"You're right, and I bet you find it hard to talk to us about that. It's like that when you return from a war."

I shake my head at him. "You got it wrong. I didn't fight in a war. I killed innocent people because Hydra made me."

"Bucky, you were a prisoner of war for a long time. Sam is right about that. He's a counselor these days and tries to help veterans adjust to society."

Veterans? I'm no veteran. I'm an assassin! But they're right about one thing; I do find it hard, maybe even impossible, to talk about Hydra and specifically about what they did to me. Hell, I thought they created me until today.

"Here, this might help."

Sam puts a notebook onto the table and moves it toward me.

"A lot of veterans shut down when they should be sharing their pain. I've found that many of them prefer to write things down. That way, it remains private, but at the same time, writing it down helps you deal with it."

I look at him in confusion. "You want me to commit those horrors to paper?"

"Yes, I keep a diary too, actually," Steve says, backing his friend up. "It helps. I filled quite a number of notebooks that way. It helps, it really does."

"I also did that for a long time," Sam shares. "It helped me figure out how to deal with the PTSD."

I blink at him. "What?"

"Post traumatic stress disorder. Most soldiers, and thus veterans, suffer from it. Maybe writing it down will work for you too. If it doesn't, we will find something different," Sam says, looking hopeful the method will work.

"I'll give it a try." But mostly because I want to humor them. I don't really understand why they're going on about this PTSD-thing. They may suffer from it, but I highly doubt the same thing goes for me.

0000

"Are you okay with a walk in the park?"

I hate it that Steve feels the need to ask me that. I don't want to be a burden. "I'll tag along." Not because I want to, but because I need to. I need to do this for Steve and for myself too. They're right; I can't let my fears get the better of me.

I expect the park to be crowded, but it's rather quiet, which suits me just fine. There are some mothers playing with their children, joggers pass us by, and I quickly check on them, just to make sure there are no Hydra agents amongst them. The sun is still high, but it's a cold day and I shiver. Steve walks over to a bench and sits down. Sam nods at me and I take the hint, sitting down as well. Just sitting here, watching people, and listening to the birds singing brings a sense of peace with it. I like it here – I didn't expect that. I can actually smell the grass which is still wet from the rain shower that happened earlier. Squirrels move about, looking for food and even giving me a hopeful look. I don't have any food on me though.

"I like it here." Steve says and looks at me. "It's quiet and peaceful. Sometimes I come down here to read a book or to watch people."

"I like it here too," I share, still feeling awkward about the whole situation I'm in. A man, dressed in shabby clothes and with a long beard, moves from one bench to the next, asking people something and I instantly grow alert, as it is odd behavior. Studying him, I realize he's limping. He's using a crutch, but it isn't helping. He's unsteady, and since the ground is wet, the crutch keeps slipping.

He turns and moves toward us now. I study the eyes. My handlers always told me to go for the eyes; they reveal fear, pain, or shock. Those eyes speak of pain and horror. They're haunted and I realize he is no threat. He addresses the two men sitting on the bench to our left, but they laugh at him and tell him off. I learned to lip read a long time ago; he told them he's a veteran and wondered if they could spare some change. All those men do is laugh at him though. Looking at Steve, I find him staring straight ahead, lost in his own world. Sam however, is watching me – too closely for my personal taste. I would rather ask Steve, but I don't want to intrude on his thoughts. "I have no money, but I want to give him some. If you give me money, I'll pay you back – somehow."

Sam looks up in surprise, follows the direction of my stare, and notices the homeless veteran too. "Well, I'll be damned," he whispers.

I have no idea what he means by that, but I give him a pleading look. "He needs to eat, maybe find a warm place to sleep for the night."

"I'll handle it. I know places he can go. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it."

The passion in his voice takes me aback. Sam gets to his feet, walks over the veteran, and starts to talk to him. The former soldier nods and then the two of them walk toward the exit of the park. Hopefully Sam is serious about wanting to help. That could have been me. If Steve hadn't forced me to come to the hospital with him I might have ended up on the streets like that.

"You're still you."

Steve's voice draws me back into the present and I cock my head at him. "I don't understand."

"You always wanted to help. That hasn't changed. You still care so much, Buck. Hydra couldn't change that."

I'm not so sure about that and stare at the ground. A squirrel races toward a tree and disappears between the branches. "Those guys laughed at him. That soldier fought for their freedom. Why do they treat them like that? He has been to hell and back. I saw it in his eyes." I swallow hard; I saw the same look in Steve's eyes just now. He didn't escape without scars either. "I'm sorry –" But Steve shakes his head and cuts me short.

"You carry your share of scars too. Let's do this together, please."

Maybe he's right. Maybe Hydra scarred me too. I didn't notice it, but Steve is holding my hand again. The feel of his fingers and the warmth of his skin comforts me. "I'll try," I give in. I'll do the best I can to ease his burden.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

Sam returns by the time Steve decides to head back to his apartment. I wonder where he went. He must have noticed my puzzled look because Sam turns toward me.

"They're taking care of him as we speak. Food and a warm bed come first. They'll get him help and a place to stay. You don't have to worry about him any longer. His name is Adam, by the way."

"That's good to know," I mumble, grateful that he took action. No one deserves to live on the streets like that.

"Why don't we head back? I'm getting hungry and it's about time for dinner," Steve suggests.

I nod. I don't mind going back to Steve's apartment. It's known territory and I feel safe there.

"Are you tagging along, Sam?" Steve inquires with a hopeful look.

"I can eat," Sam replies and grins. "God knows I can always eat, but after dinner, I need to get going."

The three of us head back to Steve's apartment. While Steve gets busy in the kitchen, Sam and I settle down at the kitchen table. That morning's newspaper is still lying there and I glance at it out of curiosity. Pierce's face unexpectedly staring back at me sends me right into an anxiety attack. That face, those calculating eyes, and cold, cruel mouth cause my heart to erupt into a painful rhythm, much too fast, much too intense.

"Barnes?"

I don't register Sam's voice, as it hardly penetrates the deep recesses of my mind. At that moment, I'm back in the vault and Pierce is damning me to the machine again. Knowing the pain that awaits me causes me to shake violently. I don't want to live through that nightmare again.

"Damn it!" Steve curses and pulls up a chair. "Bucky, listen to me. Come on, focus! You're safe with me!"

It's Pierce staring back at me though. I can't distinguish between Steve's face and Pierce's hovering over it. They melt into one and that scares the hell out of me. I push back my chair, stumble backwards, and end up with my back against the wall. I slide down the wall, pull my knees close to my chest, and bow my head, trying to hide my face so I don't have to look at him – them… fuck…

"Bucky, listen to my voice. Just try to listen to my voice. I'm Steve, your best friend. You're staying at my apartment and you're safe. Sam is here too. Bucky, do you hear me?"

I hear him, yes. I recognize his voice, though it's still Pierce's face staring back at me. I close my eyes in an attempt to lock him out, but it doesn't help. Pierce keeps leering at me and I watch him give the order to wipe and prepare me all over again. Pitiful sounds reach my ears and I'm ashamed to realize I'm making them.

"Bucky, you're safe with me. We'll survive this. Just listen to me. It's me, Steve."

Unexpectedly someone sits down next to me and I freeze in shock, but then a hand which feels familiar curls around my fingers, squeezing gently. Hydra's handlers would never touch me like that.

"Buck? Are you listening? It's me, Steve. It's safe to open your eyes. Come on, look at me. I promise everything is going to be just fine. You can do this."

My ragged breathing finally slows down and my heartbeat turns regular again. The anxiety is fading, but I'm still hesitant to open my eyes. But then that touch - those warm fingers - fully register with me and the human contact encourages me to try. I open my eyes, fully expecting to find Pierce in the room with me, but instead it's Steve looking at me. Sam sits on his heels as well and gives me a concerned look. I fucked up – I realize it that instant. Pierce isn't here…

"What happened?" Steve sits down on the floor next to me. "What triggered this?"

He doesn't release my hand; he keeps holding on and soothingly rubs my fingers. I hadn't thought it possible, but that touch grounds me and fully anchors me to the present. "That newspaper… Why is… his picture in it?" I can't bring myself to say the name. Saying it makes it real.

"Sam, can you get the newspaper for us?"

I cringe; why is Steve doing this? I don't want to see that face again, but Sam complies and returns with the newspaper in question. I pointedly stare at the wall, just to make sure I don't look at Pierce accidentally.

"Pierce is dead."

I start to shut down the moment Steve says Pierce's name, but then I realize what he actually said and I stare at him in shock. "What? What did you say?"

"Pierce is dead. Fury killed him. That's what the article is about; it exposes him as Hydra's leader."

I can't believe the things I'm hearing and I'm tempted to look at the newspaper. "Can you fold it in such a way that I don't have to look at him?"

"Sure." Steve folds the newspaper and hands it to me. "Why don't you read the article?"

I don't really trust myself not to break down again, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I take hold of the paper and start reading. The information makes my head spin. "How can this be in the newspaper? Hydra would never allow this to be published. It exposes them and leaves them weak."

"As I said earlier, Hydra is down. We downloaded Hydra's files and then uploaded them to the internet. At the moment that information is out there for each and everyone to read. Most of Hydra's informants and agents have been arrested by now. We might have missed a few, but they will be found and arrested too. We weakened Hydra considerably. At the moment, Hydra presents no danger."

Is this really true? That article says so, but… "And he's really dead?" That part is the hardest to believe. Pierce always appeared in charge; he ruled Hydra with an iron fist. If this is true then… then I might have a chance to build a life here.

"Oh, he's dead. Fury hit him right in the chest," Sam explains as he pulls up a chair and straddles it. "That's one ghost less you have to worry about."

"A ghost? No, a devil…" I bite onto my bottom lip, regretting telling them that.

"What did he do to you?" Steve moves closer and pulls my hand against his chest, wrapping both his hands around it.

I don't know if I can tell them. I'm ashamed of what happened; I know I was weak. I stay quiet, trying to make up my mind.

"You don't have to tell us," Steve says calmly, "but we might be able to help you deal with what happened."

I doubt that, but if Steve wants to hear this, I'll swallow what is left of my pride and tell him. I keep my gaze trained on one of the framed pictures on the wall, staring at Steve and locking out sergeant Barnes' presence in it. I don't want to disgrace his memory.

"Buck? I really want to help. You don't have to tell me everything, just give me a little bit of background information."

Steve doesn't give up easily so I reckon this means I have to do this after all. "Do you remember our fight at that bridge?"

"Of course. That's when I realized you were still alive."

He squeezes my hand again and I take heart. How bad can it get? He knows about my crimes. "After I fought you, my handlers took me back to Hydra's base of operations. I couldn't stop thinking about you. After you called me Bucky, I felt odd. I'm not sure, but I think I was remembering something. I felt lost and ignored Pier..ce. He didn't like that." I have a hard time pronouncing his name as it keeps triggering memories. "I told him that I knew you… and P… he told me that we met on an earlier mission; that's why you looked familiar. He was lying though; I knew that. I told him again that I knew you… he didn't like that, as I was talking back to him. It ended with him being annoyed at me and ordering them to wipe my mind and prepare me for the next mission, which was stopping you onboard of that helicarrier."

"Thank you for telling me that, but why do I feel like you're keeping back?"

Am I? I don't know. I search my mind and look at Steve in confusion. "I didn't leave anything out – nothing important. He backhanded me, but he did that because I refused to acknowledge him when he asked for a mission report."

"He backhanded you?"

The anger in Steve's voice takes me aback. I shrug, wondering why he's pissed off. "I didn't answer him, so he had to discipline me. Before that I was acting erratic and they felt I was unpredictable. I got off easy. Sometimes, they subdued me with their stun guns instead; that hurt more than Pierce slapping me." I don't understand why Steve is reacting like that. His anger is real, but I don't think it's directed at me. He's mad with Pierce instead.

"If Pierce wasn't dead already I would hunt him down and make him suffer. It disgusts me that I fell for his act. I shook his hand and respected him."

"You didn't know about his commitment to Hydra," Sam reassures Steve. "Don't blame yourself."

"That's easier said than done," Steve hisses at Sam. "While I was protecting Shield and Pierce along with it, the bastard was torturing my best friend!"

"Sam is right. Don't blame yourself. Hydra moves in secret, in the dark. You never know who is Hydra's and who isn't," I try to console him.

"Still," Steve says and shakes his head. "I didn't realize the truth until it was too late. I'm sorry for that. I might have gotten you out sooner."

"Don't do this to yourself. Don't feel guilty." I hate seeing him like this. Steve doesn't deserve this.

"And now you're comforting me when it should be the other way around."

Steve looks upset and I turn toward him. I move my left hand atop of his and mimic his hold. I rub the back of his hand and try to show him that I don't blame him. I need to distract him before he starts blaming himself again. "Didn't you promise me dinner?"

"Yeah, I did." Steve draws in a deep breath. "Is pasta okay with you?"

Pasta? I have no idea. "Yes, that's fine. Why don't you get started on dinner? I'm hungry."

"Are you sure it's okay for me to leave you?"

"You can hardly cook holding my hand, can you?" I manage a weak smile, hoping to reassure him further. Steve nods, weakly returns my smile, and lets go of my hands. He walks into the kitchen, but every now and then he looks at me from over his shoulder.

"That was a clever thing to do…"

Fuck, I forgot about Sam. He's still there, looking at me, and it doesn't seem like he's joining Steve in the kitchen. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, yes, you do. Distracting him, playing his feelings like that, knowing he wants to take care of you and utilizing that."

I really have no idea what he's talking about. I get the distracting part, but the rest? "What do you want?" Why does he keep looking at me like that?

"That was really a brave thing you did, telling us that. That must have been hard on you."

Does he really want to continue talking about this? I don't.

"You stood up to Pierce, didn't you? You defied him, challenged him, maybe not with words, but I bet your eyes gave you away. That's why he reacted like that. You're looking at me like that right now. Hydra didn't break you, did they?"

I feel broken on the inside, but I'm not telling him that. "I don't want to talk about it." I already told them too much. I hope he's isn't going to push me; I can't take much more of this.

"I'll respect that." Sam gets up. "Why don't you rest for a bit? That couch looks really comfortable, or maybe you want a moment to yourself? You have some privacy in the guestroom."

I appreciate it that he backs off. Realizing I'm still on the floor, I push myself to my feet and head for the couch, where I lie down. I turn onto my side, facing away from the kitchen. Normally I would never turn my back on anyone, but I can't deal with looking at them at the moment. They saw me like THAT. They watched me having an anxiety attack. I suffered a fucking breakdown in front of them!

"Now don't get all riled up. You're shivering, so…"

Steve is back and he covers me with that quilt again. I feel bad for disappointing him. I grab onto the fabric and bury my fingers in it. Steve seems to understand that I'm not in a talkative mood and returns to the kitchen. I listen to the sounds they make while preparing the food. They don't talk, but turn on the radio instead. It plays oldies and some songs even sound familiar. My thoughts suddenly change direction and focus on Pierce again. Is he really dead? Did Fury really kill him? It was in the newspaper, wasn't it? And both Steve and Sam confirmed it. I shouldn't get my hopes up though; cut off one head and two more will take its place. In the long run, Hydra will find me and punish me.

0000

"Hey, are you hungry? Do you want to have dinner with us?"

Steve sits down on the arm rest and I can tell he's watching me. My back is still toward him and I slowly turn onto my back to look at him, as I don't want to shut him out. "I'm not sure I can manage any food."

"That's fine, just give it a try."

Steve offers me his hand and I push back the quilt. With my right hand, I curl my fingers around his and Steve pulls me to my feet. I feel odd; I feel numb in a way. I follow him to the kitchen table, sit down, and watch Sam fill up our plates. Steve sits down next to me and smiles at me. I manage a weak smile in turn, wanting to reassure him.

"Pasta time!" Sam places the plates in front of us and moves the grated cheese toward me. "You go first. There's more, so take as much as you like."

I reach for the spoon and put some of the grated cheese on top of the pasta. I'm not very hungry and hope I can manage some, knowing Steve wants me to eat. I push the grated cheese toward Steve and wait for them to start eating. Once they do, I pick up my fork and start on the pasta. It's messy and the tomato sauce ends up everything. I watch them closely and notice they're using their spoon too. Imitating their way of eating pasta, I realize it's much easier that way.

"I'm gonna leave once we've finished," Sam announces. "Are we meeting up for our morning run at eight?"

Steve looks to me at hearing that question. What exactly does he want?

"Do you want to go running in the morning? I always run with Sam and I'd love for you to join us. That way we can make fun of him together."

"Hey, I don't have the advantages of your super soldier serum," Sam objects. "I'm only human," he adds in a dramatic tone.

What super soldier serum? I have no idea what he's talking about and I dismiss it. I shrug and look at Steve. "I can run."

"Great! It's the three of us then!"

Sam seems even happier than Steve about my decision to go jogging with them. I don't understand what the big deal is; I can run after them. I manage a few more bites, but then I start to feel queasy, and I put down the utensils. That's all I'm going to eat, because I don't want to end up throwing up later.

"Aren't you hungry?" Steve sounds worried.

"My stomach is acting up. I don't know if I can keep it down if I eat more." It's best to be honest.

"We'll try later. Maybe you'll like desert." Steve finishes his plate, but keeps giving me troubled looks.

"Can I go and rest some more? I'm tired." I'm used to asking for permission in the rare cases Hydra didn't give me instructions and it has become second nature, so I do the same thing now.

"Sure, you go ahead and get some rest. The bed is more comfortable than the couch though. Do you want me to check on you in case you're having troubling sleeping?"

"How do you know about the nightmares?" I didn't tell him about them, did I? At least I can't remember I did.

"You're not the only one," Steve whispers. "I have them too. Even Sam does."

In a way hearing that reassures me, but at the same time, I also feel sorry for them, as I know how bad nightmares can get. "Maybe you can wake me up before it gets really bad?" My nightmares are the main reason why I don't want to go to sleep. Everything becomes real when I'm asleep.

"I will," Steve promises. "I placed some clothes in your closet, pajama's sweats, shirts, you name it and you'll find it there. This is your new home, so you're welcome to anything you might need."

I nod to show I understand his generosity and then get to my feet. "Sorry, but…" I need some time on my own. I need to put everything into perspective and sort out today's events. Pierce's face still lurks in the shadows of my mind and I'm not sure I can keep my nemesis at bay during the night.

I feel old – old and tired to the bone when I finally make it into the guestroom. I leave the door ajar, so I can still hear what Steve's doing. After thinking it over, I strip down to my boxers and slip beneath the covers. I pull the comforter close and release a deep sigh. Closing my eyes, I try to relax, which is a challenge, as Pierce's fucking face keeps staring back at me.

0000

I'm still awake when Steve steps inside. I don't know how much time has passed, but it feels like hours. I doubt my sense of time is correct though.

"You're still awake."

Apparently I suck at fooling Steve, so I open my eyes and look at him. He changed into sweats and sits down on the side of the bed. "I can't sleep." Do I tell him the truth? "His face keeps staring back at me. He was one of my worst owners." Why did Steve suck in his breath just now? All of a sudden he looks upset.

"Owners?"

Why does that upset him? "I belong to Hydra. I can't recall a time I wasn't the asset, as they called me. Pier…" I stutter and don't finish. "He owns Hydra and…" Do I have to spell it out to him?

"Pierce is dead, Buck. You might not believe it, but Pierce is gone. He can no longer hurt you. I won't allow anyone hurting you."

I believe him; he sounds passionate. "The thing I don't get is why? Why are you so determined to keep me safe? I understand that we were friends when we were young – but that happened in another life time. I'm not your friend anymore. I don't feel like… him." But I want to feel like I belong with Steve, because if I do, I found myself a home and someone who cares about me.

"You'll always be my friend – my best friend, no matter what happens."

Steve raises his hand and I can't control the violent flinch sweeping through me. Steve gives me a shocked look and swallows hard. Maybe I own him an apology or at least an explanation?

"I would never—"

I stop him, as I don't want him to say it. "It's not you. It's a reflex."

"Who hit you in the past? Except for Pierce, that is."

"My handlers mostly." Why is he getting riled up? "I didn't always obey and had to be disciplined."

"That's not going to happen ever again. No one is going to hit you ever again."

He sounds so damn sure of himself, if only I could believe him. "You can't make promises like that. Hydra will come for me."

"They can try, but won't succeed."

I sigh and give up. Steve simply refuses to accept the truth.

"So what's the real reason why you can't sleep?"

His question takes me by surprise and I look at him in wonder. "I just told you."

"That's only part of it. Do you feel safe here?"

Damn, is he really going to do this? "As safe as I possibly can."

"I might know how to remedy that. Move over and give me some space."

"What are you doing?" I get my answer a few seconds later when he lies down next to me. He moves onto his side and smiles at me. This is his idea of making me feel safe? Steve pulls the comforter back into place, and although he keeps his distance, I can feel his body heat. Feeling awkward, I wonder what to do next. "You can't be comfortable like that," seems like an intelligent thing to say, but it doubt it works. The thing is, Steve being that close makes me feel shy.

"I won't bite," Steve quips, "And I'll even stick to my side of the bed, but let's try this. Maybe knowing someone's close will settle your mind."

He might even be right, but I feel ill at ease claiming him like that. He's going to miss out on his sleep watching me all night. And if we fall asleep, I'll probably wake him up due to some nightmare. I woke up screaming numerous times in the past. My handlers never liked me disturbing them. "You won't get much sleep," I warn him. "My nightmares are bad."

"Why do you think mine are any better? Do you have any idea how often I screamed myself awake in the past? One of my worst nightmares is seeing you getting blasted off that train. Having you close will help me sleep, so if you don't want to do this for you, do this for me."

I didn't think of that because I didn't believe his dreams could be this bad. Steve has nightmares, just like me. Maybe… maybe we can help each other out? "I'll wake you before things get bad."

"And I'll do the same thing for you, deal?"

"Deal," I tell him, still stunned that he has nightmares about losing me. Me!

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I can deal with the bad dreams. No reason to get upset about it."

Steve's hand sneaks towards mine and he curls his fingers around it. "I didn't think anyone ever worried about me – cared about me in any way," I admit. "I didn't even know I had friends. I only remember Hydra, the handlers, my missions and…" No, I'm not going there. I refuse to think about the machine. Steve cocks his head questioningly, but I shake my head repeatedly. "Don't… Don't ask me."

"Okay." Steve gives in. "Do you think you can sleep now? I'm tired and wouldn't mind getting some rest."

"Yeah, you should get some sleep. You need to rest."

"You too, Buck."

I have to close my eyes, because seeing all that emotion in his eyes is killing me on the inside. "Sweet dreams," I tell him, hoping he understands that I've reached my limits.

"Sweet dreams, Buck. See you in the morning. You're safe with me."

I swallow convulsively. He keeps telling me that; no one else ever did. I'm not sure I can actually sleep, but I will try.

0000

Feeling confused, I open my eyes in order to find out what exactly woke me. The first thing that registers with me is that I didn't wake due to a nightmare. Then I realize I'm not alone in bed; there's someone in bed with me. That never happened before and I expect the worst; an assassin, an intruder, or maybe just a handler checking on me, but that seems unlikely. This other person wrapped his arms around me and is pulling me tightly against him. I encounter blond, messy hair and a sleepy face. I need a moment to identify him. It's the guy I'm currently staying with; Steve. He told me that he believes I'm his long lost best friend.

I remember what happened earlier. I couldn't sleep and Steve joined me, telling me to wake him up in case he has a nightmare. But he's peacefully asleep, so what woke me? I carefully scan the room and listen for noises that might betray an intruder, but I find nothing out of the ordinary. Then Steve twitches and mumbles in his sleep. I study him closely; he is no longer peacefully asleep. The twitching worsens, and at the same time, he moves closer to me.

"No, don't… Bucky, stay… don't! No…"

Bucky? His nightmare is about me?

"Bucky, look out! Don't pick up the shield! You idiot, you're getting yourself killed! Don't leave me, just don't!"

His skin grows clammy beneath my fingertips and he's shaking himself to pieces. It's time to wake him up. "Steve, wake up. Come on, it's just a nightmare." I feel ill equipped to handle this situation; what experience do I have comforting someone? None! "Steve, come on, wake up!" His eyes open and a scream dies on his lips. Wide-eyed he stares at me, as he tries to catch his breath. He looks seriously spooked and I feel the need to reassure him. "It was just a nightmare."

"No, it wasn't," Steve stammers.

He releases me from his crushing hold and moves onto his back. Staring at the ceiling, he works on getting his breathing back under control, and for one moment, I feel like I've done this before. I comforted him before, held him before, and tried to soothe him. I have no memories of it ever happening, but I KNOW it occurred.

"Bucky?"

Steve turns his head and looks at me. He managed to compose himself and looks at me questioningly. "I did this before, didn't I? Watch over you in your sleep." I hope I'm right and that my mind isn't playing tricks on me like so often in the past.

"Yeah, a lot of times actually. Mostly when we were kids, but we would hold each other before heading into a major battle when we were still fighting the Nazi's and Hydra." Steve's smile is rather melancholy. "It helped. It made going into battle easier."

"I don't remember any of that, but I KNOW we…" Lost for words I look to him for help. "I know I've been in this situation before. You feel familiar. THIS feels familiar."

"We would curl up and hold each other, especially after a really bad battle when we lost a lot of men."

I can hardly believe I'm going to suggest this, but… "I can hold you if that's what you want." To me, it's giant leap of faith and I'm not sure Steve will accept the offer.

"I'd like that very much."

I gasp the moment he moves into my arms and rests his head against my shoulder. A part of me didn't think he would accept and now I don't have a clue as what to do. Well, maybe wrapping my arms around him would be a start. I envelop him in a hug and Steve sighs; the warmth of his breath moves against my neck.

"Yeah, like this."

Steve unexpectedly wraps his arms around me in turn and snuggles closer. I can't recall ever being in such close proximity with someone while NOT trying to kill that person. "Are you really comfortable like this?"

"Very much so," Steve whispers.

I curse the fact that I didn't put on a t-shirt and sweatpants, because now I feel exposed and vulnerable. I'm about to suggest that he lets me go so I can slip into some sweats when his breathing evens out and slows down. He actually fell asleep on me. He isn't faking it; I would know. He really fell asleep in my arms. How can he trust me not to kill him? How can he trust me at all?

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

I wake up because fingers move through my hair and curl around the strands. I should feel terrified because of that, as my handlers often used my hair to establish a domineering hold over me, but it doesn't feel threatening. The touch is surprisingly gentle. Looking at Steve, who's awake and studying me in turn, I swallow nervously. What is he up to?

"Morning. Did you get any sleep after I woke you due to that nightmare?"

"Yeah, I slept some," I confirm. I don't know how long I slept though. I watched over Steve for quite some time, but then fatigue got the better of me. I'm stunned that I didn't have any nightmares. In the past, I woke up screaming because of them.

"It's only six, so we don't have to hurry. Sam will meet us downstairs, so we can take our time, have breakfast, and if you want to, talk."

"What about?" I'm still waking up and talking isn't the first thing on my mind.

"Whatever you want to talk about."

I sigh. "Give me a break, will you? I just woke up two minutes ago." To my surprise, Steve laughs warmly. Maybe it was the right thing to say?

"So, do you want to stay like this a little longer? Just like old times?"

Did we really do this in the past? Steve seems awfully comfortable though, like he did do this before. I don't want to talk, but that doesn't mean I'm opposed to listening to him. "Can you tell me more about our… friendship?" Steve repeatedly insisted we were close, so I hope it's appropriate for me to call it that. I don't want to presume too much.

"Let me see… " Steve considers the question in earnest. "When I became Captain America I was part of a revue. There were dancing girls and they made me knock out an actor dressed as Hitler. When you found out about that, you couldn't stop laughing, especially after Peggy showed you some pictures of that time."

"Who's Peggy?" The name seems familiar as it leaves my lips. I've said it before; my subconscious recognizes it.

"She was feisty… Peggy Carter was a lady to reckon with. You might not believe this, but she taught me how to fight. Frenchie always accused me of fighting like a woman, and maybe I still do, but it wins me the fight."

"You… cared about her?" I'm treading on thin ice; I have no idea if I'm right. It's just a feeling…

"Yes, I did," Steve confirms and a sad expression appears on his face. "She's still alive, but suffers from Alzheimer. She does recognize me now and then, but it's hard – on both of us. Old age caught up with her."

"I'm sorry," and I mean it. If he loved her, losing her must hurt. His tale leaves me with more questions though and I'm not sure I should voice them.

"What else do you want to know? I can tell you want to ask me something. I know that look."

"How is it possible that you're still young? You must be close to ninety, possibly hundred, just like me."

"You know how long Hydra kept you prisoner?"

Steve sounds surprised and I get it. "I'm not stupid… Hydra punished me each time I tried to think independently, but my curiosity always got the better of me. When they took me out of the ice, they always carried files with them. Files have dates on them. Any data they enter into the computer, carries a time stamp. Sometimes, when a mission lasted longer, I managed to get a glance at a newspaper stand, the billboards, or television screens. The Winter Soldier registered the data mechanically, no emotions attached, but sometimes, I would remember something he saw."

"We're both in our nineties, Buck, but it doesn't show."

"You didn't answer my question." Me reminding him about that evasive maneuver is something that shocks me. Pressuring someone for information is unheard of, but Steve might let me get away with it.

"It's a long story, and I'm going to give you the short version. A known Hydra villain wanted to destroy our country and flew a plane, carrying a bomb, right into the heart of it. I ended up taking control of the plane, but the bomb was going off anyway. I decided to crash the plane into the ice and when it went down, the impact knocked me out. The cold did the rest. I ended up frozen and spend about seventy years in the ice. Shield found me eventually and dug me out. That's why I'm here today."

Crashing a plane in order to save millions sounds like something Steve would do. I hardly know the guy, and yet, I know he would sacrifice himself if that meant saving innocent people. "Do you still feel the cold?" I probably shouldn't be asking him that, but his story is similar to mine in that way; the ice preserved both of us.

"No." Steve shakes his head slightly. "I barely noticed the cold. I never realized what happened until they woke me from my sleep."

His expression changes and I don't like the way his eyes narrow in thought. I have the feeling he's going to address something unpleasant – for me, that is.

"But YOU still feel the cold, don't you? That's why you asked me about it. What was it like for you – in cryo?"

Didn't I tell him just now that I don't want to talk about any of that? I seriously consider refusing answering his question, but he did so much for me. In a way, he gave me my life back. Not answering him would be ungrateful. "It's hard to explain," I try, "I always hated that moment when they woke me from my sleep. I couldn't wait for them to put me back under. In spite of the terrible cold, I felt at peace. I didn't have to worry about Hydra, any missions, my handlers, Pierce or Rumlow." Steve's eyes narrow further; something I said caught his attention.

"How does Rumlow fit in?"

I cringe, as I would rather not answer that question, but Steve's look is both expectant as compelling. If I don't tell him now, he will find a way to make me open up eventually. Maybe it's best to get it over with. "He was one of my handlers… And an instructor. Pierce trusted him unconditionally."

"Rumlow knew you were alive? And he didn't tell me?"

Steve suddenly releases me and sits upright. His back is tense and his hands turn into fists. I'm at a loss to explain the sudden shift in his mood. I elbow myself into a sitting position and keep my distance. Something I said angered him and I don't want to make it worse so I stay quiet.

"I considered him my friend! A very good friend! We fought side by side, saved each other lives and he hid this from me?"

I'm not sure what's happening, so I settle for saying nothing and watching him – not too obviously though.

"I told him about you. I told him what happened to you; that I lost you on that train and he said that he was sorry I lost my friend. He looked me in the eye and told me he was sorry! And all that time, he knew that Hydra had you and that Pierce was pulling your strings. If I ever get my hands on him, then… then…"

Steve's breathing speeds up and his anger continues to build. I move away from him and shift toward the foot end of the bed, increasing the distance between us. I don't want to be in his vicinity when that anger wants out.

"He was your handler…"

Steve's gaze focuses on me again and I can't repress the shivers running down my spine. His eyes scream murder. "Yes," I whisper, calculating the distance to the door just in case I need to get away. That is, if I have the guts to make a run for it. It wouldn't be the first time I froze up and just took the punishment. Rumlow in particular would always drag me back by my hair to make sure I learned my lesson and stopped talking back.

"Did he… hurt you?"

Steve's tone changes again and the anger fades from his eyes. He calms down and swallows hard, as if emotions are making it hard for him to breathe. I don't know what to make of that. I'm not sure I should answer, as it might fuel his anger again.

"Bucky, did Rumlow hurt you? Did he hit you? Did he… *discipline* you?"

The tone he uses when saying that word shows disgust. Whom is he disgusted with though? Rumlow for punishing me or me for behaving badly and earning that punishment? Well, there's only one way out for me for find out and the only thing I can do is to hope for the best. "He was my handler. He was supposed to discipline me, so he did." Steve draws in a deep breath and moves toward me. Sitting cross-legged in front of me, he leaves me little maneuvering space.

"Bucky, did he hit you? Yes or no?"

"Yes," I snap, feeling cornered. "It was expected of him."

"What other things did he do to you?"

I'm not going there. Not even for Steve. "I don't want to talk about it." I move one foot onto the floor, so I can quickly get away if necessary. Steve will probably catch me before I'm out of the door, but I can't take much more of this interrogation.

"Bucky, I need to –"

"Stop it! Just leave me alone!" I jump off the bed and make a run for it. I head for the bathroom and slam the door shut behind me. I curse the fact that locking the door will do little to keep him out and sit down, putting my back against it and hoping it will stop Steve from entering. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to push? I bury my face in my hands and am shocked to find I'm crying. My face is wet. When did that happen?

I listen closely and everything stays quiet for some minutes. I use that time to compose myself and to wipe the tears from my face. I can't hide in here forever, but I'm not moving yet. I'm not ready to face him. I lost it again. I fucked up again. I should have answered his questions instead of losing my guts and running away.

"Bucky?"

Nervously, I raise my head and listen closely. Steve's on the other side of the door, but he's not trying to open it.

"Buck? I'm sorry. I was wrong to pressure you in that way. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to. I'm to blame for what happened, and next time, I will respect your boundaries. I will stop when you tell me to stop. Please accept my apology."

My hearing picks up on him resting his hands against the door, but not in order to push it open. He simply stands there, remaining motionless and waiting for my decision.

"Bucky? I'm going to get breakfast ready. You don't have to join me if you don't want to. If you want some time on your own, I will respect that. I'm so sorry, I really am. I got carried away."

I can tell he's sincere and that he regrets pushing me. Slowly, I get to my feet and curl my fingers around the door handle. After drawing in a deep breath, I open the door and face him. I'm not sure what to expect, but it's not Steve looking utterly defeated. He seems hesitant to even make eye contact and his shoulders slump forward. He looks truly apologetic – and beaten. "I can't talk about certain things yet. They're still too close and hurt too much. I'm not used to telling people off… I never had the freedom to do so before…" Steve raises his head and waveringly makes eye contact. Seeing him look that remorseful, I find the courage to add, "Please respect that. I'll probably tell you what you want to know if you push me hard enough, but…it hurts to talk about it."

"I get that, I really do," Steve quickly admits. "It was my fault. I got carried away. I blame myself for not realizing sooner that Rumlow was playing me. I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with myself."

"Steve…" Lost for words, I just look at him. Words are meaningless in a situation like this. My soul urges me on to reestablish contact, to comfort him, and reassure him. My soul? I didn't know I still had one... My mind may have forgotten about him, Hydra may have taken my memories, but my soul still recognizes him and remembers the friendship that bound us in the past. Hesitantly, I move toward him, watch his reaction, and when he remains motionless, I wrap my right arm around him and hug him, feeling incredibly shy about it. Steve remains still at first, but then his façade crumbles, and he hugs me right back, resting his head on my shoulder. I'm not sure, but it sounds like he's crying. My shoulder definitely feels wet. "Don't cry. Please don't." I can't bear seeing him this way.

"Sorry," Steve whispers and wipes away his tears. "I was worried I had broken the trust between us."

I still trust him and I know I always will. Maybe he hurt me earlier, but I know I trust him. "Shall we get started on breakfast now? Sam is going to be here shortly." Distracting him worked before and hopefully it will work again. Steve chuckles, but it sounds fake.

"Yeah, let's start on breakfast. Do you still want to go running?"

"Yes, definitely." Being cooped up in here is driving both of us nuts. Hopefully going outside and running will help our nerves to settle down; we're both ticking time bombs.

0000

During breakfast Steve is much too quiet. I recall how chipper he was during yesterday's breakfast. "Don't worry about it." I tentatively rest my right hand on his, having long realized he's a very tactile person – at least with me he is. "Don't feel guilty. Something tells me that it won't be the last time that will happen. It will happen again, and when it does, we'll talk about it and move on." Steve's troubled expression changes into a brilliant smile and the sudden transformation baffles me.

"You might not remember this, but you told me this many times before. It mostly happened after I charged bullies for targeting the weak. You'd rescue me and I'd tell you that I had them on the ropes and didn't need your help. I'd sulk for a while and then you would tell me something similar. We never really fought, but I was rather pigheaded, I'm afraid."

"You still are," I say, opting for some humor. I'm surprised that I'm still capable of joking around him. It earns me another one of those smiles and I feel a blush coming on, so I quickly look away.

"Do you want to shower now or after our run?"

"Later." I'm amazed to find I'm eager to go jogging.

0000

Wearing Steve's clothes feels odd, but it will have to do. Thankfully his clothes – and shoes - fit. Instead of using the elevator, I opt for the staircase. I developed claustrophobia throughout the years and hate being confined to small spaces. Elevators tend to drive me insane. The mere thought of being locked in a metal box and the elevator malfunctioning causes me to break out in a cold sweat. Thankfully Steve doesn't notice and stays at my side. He's still very quiet and I wish he wasn't that hard on himself. We will mess up again, it's bound to happen, I know that.

"Ah, there you are!" Sam waves at us in greeting. "The sun is out and it's going to be a great day!"

His eyes don't mirror his cheer though. Sam is smart enough to realize something is off with Steve. He doesn't bring it up though and we set off at a comfortable pace. We leave the busy streets behind us and enter the park. A few minutes later, I realize we're running the same round over and over again. It suits me just fine and I speed up, quickly leaving them behind. When I pass them by, they're talking softly and I catch a phrase.

"I fucked up, Sam. He told me no and I pushed him anyway."

I pass them by quickly, not wanting to intrude on what is obviously a private conversation. I don't mind Steve confiding in Sam; the two of them are close and everyone needs someone to confide in. Didn't Steve tell me the guy was a counselor? I pass them by again and don't listen in, as I don't want to hear Steve telling Sam about my breakdown that morning.

In the end, I get bored with running and sit down on a bench. From where I'm sitting I keep an eye on Sam and Steve, who slowed down and are walking now, still talking busily. Good, with them being distracted I uncover the nuts I found in Steve's cupboard that morning. I intend to eat them as a snack, but then a curious squirrel hops onto the bench and gives me a hopeful look. He moves closer, climbs onto my thigh, and heads for my hand. Intrigued by the little creature's courage, I open my hand and offer him the food. I doubt he will accept, as I'm holding the nuts in my left hand. Humans, and animals alike, dislike my vibranium arm. This little guy doesn't seem to mind though and jumps onto my wrist. He grabs a macadamia nut and starts nibbling on it. The fact that he doesn't shun me, makes me feel humble.

"You're making new friends," Sam comments and sits down next to me, careful not to chase away the squirrel. "They often lose their fear of humans. The temptation is too big, as they love food."

"Where's Steve?" I scan the park and find him running his rounds, a lot faster this time.

"He needs to blow off some steam and he asked me to talk to you in the mean time."

What about? About what happened this morning? I watch the squirrel instead and realize he's gotten company. A second squirrel is also eyeing the nuts and then joins in. Thankfully they're able to share and tolerate each other. It might help that there are plenty of nuts to choose from.

"Are you even listening to me?" Sam chuckles and inclines his head toward the squirrels. "They seldom come this close though. They're cautious little buggers."

"I'm listening," I sigh, realizing it's best to get this conversation over with. "I told Steve not to worry about it. I don't want him to feel guilty about what happened. I snapped; I couldn't take it – not at the time. I had just woken up and I always need some time to remember where I am and what's happening. This is still alien to me."

"Steve gets that now. He does regret pressuring you and he promised to back down the next time you tell him to stop. I do hope Rumlow didn't survive his fall. If Steve ever finds him alive and gets his hands on him… He's probably dead though. No one survives a building dropping atop of them."

"Don't count on that. Rumlow survived. You can't kill him that easily." I wouldn't be so lucky to have Rumlow eliminated from my life. I fought him when we trained and he's hard to beat. He's even harder to kill.

"Steve told me –" Sam starts, but then suddenly stops.

It might have something to do with me freezing on the spot and shutting down. I'm not ready to talk about Rumlow; I told Steve and now he sends Sam to try!

"Steve told me you like coffee, so do you want to head back to the coffee shop where we went yesterday? They have great smoothies and you should try their blueberry muffins."

I feel immensely relieved now that he changed the subject. I was convinced he was going to ask about Rumlow. "Can we wait for these little guys to finish?"

"Sure," Sam concedes and grins. "They are nuts about your nuts!"

0000

Nursing my coffee I watch people passing by on the street. It's noon and most of them disappear inside restaurants for lunch. I opted to sit close to the window as it enables me to scan my surroundings. I doubt my paranoia will ever go away; I still expect Hydra agents at every corner.

"Here, try it."

Steve moves a plate toward me. "What is it?"

"A blueberry muffin. They're great."

Steve seems to have recomposed himself. He's back to being chipper and gives me a hopeful look. I pick up the muffin; instead of biting into it, I remove bits and pieces with my fingers and then put them in my mouth. It tastes good, I give him that. "It's fine."

I'm not interested in the food though and return to watching the people outside. For the last minute or so I felt watched. One might argue my paranoia is getting worse, but I learned to trust my instincts a long time ago. My senses are sharp and kept me alive on many a mission.

"Is something wrong?" Steve sits down next to me and joins me in looking outside.

"We're being watched." I know that with certainty. I don't know yet who is watching us or where they're hiding at, but I know we're under surveillance.

"Do you think Coulson put some protective detail on us?" Sam suggests, addressing Steve.

"He would have told me if he had." Steve shakes his head. "I don't think it's Shield." Steve turns his head toward me and studies me closely. "Who do you think is spying on us?"

I'm surprised he's taking this seriously. I expected them to tell me that I am only imagining things. "It feels hostile."

"It FEELS hostile?" Sam repeats and frowns. "Explain that… How can it FEEL hostile?"

"I don't know… It's something I noticed while away on missions. It kept me alive more than once." I doubt they believe me; how can I possibly explain a feeling to them? "Maybe we should move away from the window. We present easy targets."

"We can sit in the back if that makes you more comfortable," Steve suggests.

I briefly look at them and notice the glance that passes between them. They do think me mad, it seems. So be it. "Let's move to the back." I keep my eyes on the street though, at the opposite building to be exact. It's located at a perfect angle to take a shot. A sniper would love it. Steve and Sam pick up their drinks and head for the back area, but I don't turn my back toward the street. That's why I catch the reflection of a rifle and they don't.

"Everybody take cover! Now!" Thankfully the coffee shop is rather empty at the moment and the two employees react the way I had hoped. They dive for cover behind the counter. That leaves Steve, Sam, and me as targets. The window explodes and glass shards travel into every direction. I push Steve and Sam down onto the floor, push over tables and use them for cover. At the same time, I raise my left arm to deflect the bullets finding their way inside. Calculating their trajectory I realize we're dealing with a master sniper. I detect one bullet that has the strength to pass through Sam's head in order to burry itself in Steve's.

I block it using my left arm and it buries itself in the palm of my hand. A terrible pain travels through my hand and up my arm, but I ignore it and follow Steve and Sam into safety. They barricade themselves behind some tables and wait it out. Holding my injured arm tightly against my chest, I try to evaluate the damage. I can't flex my fingers; my hand is practically useless and my arm is shutting down too. The receptors in my brain aren't shutting down though – unfortunately – and keep relaying pain. It happened before; this isn't the first time I injured my vibranium arm, but back then Hydra was always able to quickly fix it. I doubt Shield has the technology to help me.

"What's going on?" Sam whispers from where he's hiding.

"Sniper." I wouldn't be surprised to learn it's Rumlow. He's fucking good and probably the only sniper, besides me, who can make that shot work. If it is Rumlow he won't stay and he probably already left. I manage to lock out the pain for now, but I know it won't last.

"What do we do?"

Steve looks to me for guidance and I consider our options. "Can you call in Shield? I doubt our sniper is still around, but Shield showing up will most certainly chase him off. You don't want to endanger bystanders. You need to take back control of the situation." In the past, I would probably have charged the building and wrecked it in the process just to reach my target.

Steve uncovers his phone and starts talking to Coulson. Now that is taken care of I divide my attention between the opposite building and my damaged hand. On the street hardly anyone seems to have noticed the assault as people quietly walk by. The two employees look at us from behind the counter, but I gesture for them to stay down. They're not targets, but a frustrated sniper might still take them out, just to score a hit, even if it's the wrong hit.

The bullet lodged itself deeply into the palm of my hand and did a lot of damage as far as I can tell. My arm is completely immobile and now that I'm looking at it, the pain makes a return as well. I do my best to suppress it, but it's difficult. I can block any pain as long as it isn't tied to my metal arm. In order for me to have full control over it, Hydra connected it to my brain. It is pain I can't lock out.

"Buck? You saved us."

Steve's voice makes me focus and I look at him, allowing him to distract him from my injured arm. "Are you and Sam fine?"

"Yeah, you moved just in time. I'll never doubt you again. The next time, you feel something hostile, I'm heading for cover," Sam says, only partly joking.

Shield is quick to arrive, if the sirens in the street are theirs. I'm convinced the sniper took off by now, and when the employees move from their cover, I'm fine with it. Judging from what happened, I'd say Steve was the target and they were willing to go through Sam to get to him. The sniper probably assumed – falsely – that I wouldn't spot him. Hydra miscalculated.

"What happened to your arm?"

Steve sits down next to me and eyes my arm warily. I force myself to hold still when he reaches for my left hand and turns it towards him. I bite down onto my bottom lip to stop myself from showing the pain I'm in.

"That's a bullet…" Steve stammers in surprise. "You blocked it. With an impact like that it would have certainly killed Sam and it would have had enough power to take me down too. You saved two lives today."

I shrug and rest the back of my head against the wall. There's noise near the doorway and I reckon Shield has arrived. I cock my head and fully expect Coulson to march inside, but to my surprise it's Fury himself. What happened to pretending to be dead? Did he find out that it's not that easy to hide? He's not alone; Romanoff and Coulson are right behind him.

"Rogers, what the hell happened in here? Romanoff, secure the area and deal with the witnesses. Coulson, check the opposite building for any traces our sniper might have left behind. Now!" The two of them turn around to carry out their instructions and Fury moves closer. "I should have known that this involved the three of you." Fury grabs hold of a chair and straddles it. "Phil told me what happened – more or less. Care to supply me with more details, gentlemen?"

"What happened to playing dead?" Steve asks, addressing Fury.

"It was too damn inconvenient. With Hydra down and Shield comprised, my men need all the help they can get. I'm still waiting, Rogers."

Steve refuses to let go of my hand and I consider pulling it away, but I don't want to aggravate the injury. Removing that bullet is going to be challenging and I have no idea if I can restore function to my arm. Normally my handlers deal with problems like that.

"Care to update the boss, Bucky?"

Steve is asking me to update Fury? I reluctantly comply. "Sniper, third or fourth floor. Steve was the main target, but he would have killed anyone to get to him. He's probably long gone by now. It might have been Rumlow." I close my eyes again and focus on dialing down the pain.

"Rumlow? But the guy is dead!" Steve says in a stunned tone.

"Rumlow is tough," I remind them. "He's a survivor." And I hate that bastard with a vengeance. If only he had died when that building collapsed!

"We'll look out for Rumlow," Fury says and grows momentarily quiet. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"I blocked the bullet, but it dug itself into my hand. My arm is currently not functioning." I'm used to being debriefed and answer without giving it a second thought.

"You look like you're in pain," Fury says, clearly confused by that.

"I have sensation in my left arm. It's tied directly to my brain, so yes, it hurts." I hope they'll leave it at that.

Steve suddenly wraps an arm around me and pulls me close. The move makes me open my eyes and I look at him questioningly. "What's going on?"

"I didn't realize that – not fully. We need to get you… What? A doctor probably won't do… A surgeon might help, but they know nothing about the technology that makes your arm work."

Steve appears to be getting more frustrated by the minute realizing my problem. I'm about to tell him that I'll find a way to deal with it, when Fury gets to his feet and pushes the chair out of the way. He looks smug.

"I know the right guy for the job."

"You do?" Steve seems torn between hope and disbelief.

"Yeah, we're heading for Stark right now. I'm sure he can fix his arm."

I have no idea who this Stark is Fury is talking about, but if he can repair my damaged arm, I'll cooperate.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

Sitting in the car in between Steve and Sam I watch the buildings pass me by. The pain is easier to suppress when I focus on something else. Suddenly Steve slips his fingers beneath my right hand and twines our fingers. Mesmerized, I look at our intertwined fingers and it provides me with the perfect distraction. Why does he do things like that;, like hugging me, holding me, wrapping an arm around me like at the coffee shop, or rub my fingers like that? Maybe I was right earlier and he's just a very tactile person – around me. I can't recall him touching Sam in that way – just me.

"Tony is a genius when it comes down to technology. He'll figure out what's wrong and fix it."

Steve sounds completely convinced that this guy can repair my arm. Sam

nods his approval and even Fury grunts to show he agrees.

Sometime later the car comes to a stop. Apparently my sense of time is still messed up because I honestly can't tell how long driving here took. It might have been ten minutes or half an hour, I have no idea. Fury and Sam get out and Steve watches me closely while I leave the car as well. Steve follows suit and returns to my side, promptly wrapping an arm around me. I don't need the support, but having him at my side helps.

"Director Fury," an electronic voice sounds from the intercom. "Welcome, I will alert mister Stark that you are here. Please come inside."

"I'm bringing friends," Fury says as he opens the door to the building. "You remember Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson?"

"Of course, I do, director Fury."

"And then there's the reason we are here; James Buchanan Barnes. His bionic arm has shut down and we need Tony's help."

"I'm already updating him, director Fury. Please take the elevator to the tenth floor."

"Thanks, Jarvis."

The elevator doors open and I realize there's no way out for me as Steve is pulling me along. I step into the tiny space and close my eyes, trying to deny the claustrophobic feelings moving in on me. I'm not alone in here: Steve is here with me and I'm safe with him. Thankfully the door opens quickly and I step into a large area, filling with computers, robots, and other equipment.

"Tony is already on his way over here," a woman says as she heads towards Fury and shakes his hand. "What happened? This is rather unexpected." She smiles at Steve and nods at him. "Captain, it's nice to see you again, you too, Falcon."

"Miss Potts, thank you for your hospitality." Fury says and smiles charmingly at her. "We're sorry to show up unannounced, but one of our own was wounded in battle and I'm afraid only Tony can help."

Her eyes settle on me and her eyes widen at seeing my arm. "I heard about your return, Sergeant Barnes."

"You did?" escapes me. Who told her?

"Tony is addicted to news channels, eager to pick up on any broadcasts highlighting him, so he keeps close tabs on them," she explains.

I was on the news? No one told me about that.

"We thought it wise to inform and prepare the public in case something happened involving your person," Fury says, "and we were right. You're a hero for saving those two baristas at the coffee shop, not to mention the people going wild about the fact that you saved Rogers and Wilson from a sniper."

I can't believe they shared all that with the public. What's wrong with these people? Why can't they keep secrets? It is a miracle they managed to take down Hydra.

"Why don't you sit down?" she suggests after taking one good look at me. "The couch is very comfortable and you look like you should be off your feet."

I'm grateful for the offer and sit down. Steve immediately sits down next to me. The guy is awfully protective.

"I'm going to get some drinks and snacks," Pepper announces, still looking worried. The elevator pings, announcing its arrival. "That must be Tony and Bruce."

"Bruce?" Steve sounds surprised. "When did he show up? I thought he had gone into hiding?"

"He decided to come out of hiding and to pay me a visit."

While Potts exists the room, two men leave the elevator and advance on us. They don't look threatening. They don't look like soldiers. They carry themselves as scientists instead. I've been around them for long enough to recognize one. Hydra's scientists were even worse than their handlers. I lost track of the experiments they conducted on me.

"Steve, Sam, it's good to see you, though a bit unexpected!"

The shorter one out of the two, wearing black spectacles, moves towards Sam and shakes his hand. He barely glances at Fury as he passes him by. "I see that your death didn't last very long. You could have had the decency to wait until you were buried."

"Tony," Fury starts and his face contorts, revealing he's in some sort of emotional turmoil. "I'm sorry I couldn't clue you in, but I had to move fast. Hydra had infiltrated Shield and they were trying to kill me. Staying dead helped me survive." He pauses and then sighs. "I'm sorry."

The guy named Tony turns towards Fury and cocks his head. He seems to consider everything Fury said very closely. "I bet that's the first time ever you apologized."

"Tony," the other guys says and moves closer. "You know what his life is like. Just be happy he's still alive."

"True," Tony replies and then shrugs. "Kiss and make up?" he asks Fury.

"I'm not kissing you, Stark!" Fury quips, and then smiles. It seems they solved whatever problem they had.

"So why are you here? Jarvis said something about one of your men being wounded? You DO know that I'm not a physician? And neither is Bruce here, not really, although he knows more about the human body than I do. I'm more a mechanics kind of guy."

I listen to them, register the things they say, but mostly focus on keeping the pain under control. It frustrates me that, although the arm shut down, the receptors in my brain refuse to shut down as well. I'm tired and find myself slipping to one side. Steve moves closer, pulls me against him, and guides my head against his shoulder. The contact helps, it really does.

"Guys, can we do this later? Bucky needs help." Steve gives Tony a pleading look. "You're probably the only one who can repair his arm."

"Repair?" Tony's curiosity awakens and he moves toward the couch. He comes to a halt and studies me. "Well, I'll be damned. Is that really Barnes? Your former mate from the Howling Commandos?"

"Yes, that's him. His arm shut down after catching a bullet meant for me. It's his hand mostly, but it affects his entire arm. It's somehow wired to his brain and he's in pain. Can you help?"

I watch Tony take another step and he eyes my arm intently. I don't like being scrutinized like that; it reminds me of the way Hydra's scientists studied me.

"Bruce, you got to see this," Tony gestures for Bruce to join him, which he does. The second guy puts on his glasses and arches an eyebrow, looking impressed.

"That looks interesting," Bruce comments and exchanges a look with Tony. "We should take him to the shop and have a closer look. Maybe we can help." He sounds hopeful.

"That's a great idea," Steve says and nods encouragingly at me. "I didn't count on Bruce being at the tower, so this is even better. They'll fix your arm and you'll be as good as new. I have complete faith in them."

"Hey, hold your horses," Tony objects. "I might be a genius, but even I need time to figure out how they made it work. By the way, who designed it?"

"Hydra did," I manage from between gnashing teeth. The constant pain is getting to me and making me grumpy. Whatever their plans are, I wish they hurried up. I don't know how much longer I can hang on to consciousness.

"Hydra?" Tony whistles. "Okay, let's do this. Steve, do you need help to get him to the shop?"

"I'll help if necessary," Sam quickly says. "We'll manage."

"I'm off," Fury announces as he heads for the elevator. "I need to find out if Rumlow is still alive. We'll keep in touch." The elevator doors close and he's gone.

"Come on, let's get you to your feet."

Steve keeps an arm tightly wrapped around me while he pulls me to my feet. Sam hovers close, eager to help, just in case. I lean on Steve, not because I can't walk unaided, but because the pain is making me dizzy. "It's getting worse," I warn them. In the past, Hydra would have fixed the problem by now. I can't remember a time when my arm shut down for so long. My headache worsens and it's like tiny, but powerful electrical charges electrocute my brain. It hurts like hell and it feels like my brain is on fire. "I can't…" There's no way I can fight this, and the next moment, my brain starts to shut down too, just like my arm did. The last thing I remember before losing consciousness is Steve grabbing hold and holding me tightly.

0000

It's quiet when I wake up again. I'm sleepy and disoriented, and I can't be bothered to open my eyes yet. My body feels heavy, and at the same time, I feel utterly relaxed. I have no idea where I am or what's happening, and to be frank, I don't fucking care. I just want to stay like this forever. I'm warm, buried beneath some blankets and this tranquility is something I always longed for.

"Buck?"

I knew it couldn't and wouldn't last. I try to stall, but in the end, I have to open my eyes and to look at him. As expected, Steve hovers close, looking terribly worried. Where do those black circles beneath his eyes come from? I'm certain they weren't there when I… when I what? I fainted, didn't I? Slowly, everything comes back. I recall Steve supporting me because…because what? And where am I? Looking about I realize that I'm not in a hospital. Where am I then?

"Do you recognize me? Do you know who I am?"

Steve sounds upset for some reason, and all I can think of is to take his worries away. "Yeah, you're Steve." He sighs deeply and smiles at me in relief.

"Do you remember your own name? Do you still remember who you are?"

What an odd questions to ask! "My name is Bucky." Looking about, I wonder where I am. I'm definitely not at Steve's apartment or a hospital.

"Do you say that because I called you that just now, or do you KNOW your name is Bucky?"

This is getting stranger by the second. "I'm James Buchanan Barnes, according to you, that is. You showed me those weird pictures and news paper snippets." Maybe he just wants to make really certain that I still remember what happened. He seems unsure, maybe even spooked for some reason. Steve also looks drained and worried – about me?

"Thank God," Steve whispers and sits back in his chair.

He looks immensely relieved and it's like a gigantic burden has been lifted from his shoulders. Did he really worry that much about me? I feel guilty for doing that to him, but then again, what did I do? "What's going on?" Why is he acting like this? And why am I so fucking tired? I shift slightly and don't notice any injuries that might explain Steve's concern. Even my left arm works just fine.

I frown, wasn't there something wrong with my bionic arm? Wasn't there an incident in which it got damaged? I raise my head slightly and find my arm in place, functioning perfectly as I experimentally flex my fingers. I lift my arm and bend it. It works just fine.

I remember blocking a bullet meant for Sam and Steve and it buried itself in my hand, effectively shutting down my arm and eventually, me as well. "He managed to repair it." They brought me here because they hoped Tony could fix it. Apparently it worked.

"You remember that too?"

I nod and elbow myself into a sitting position. I'm appalled when I realize just how weak I am. "What the hell happened?"

"Your brain short circuited," Tony says, suddenly appearing out of nowhere and heading for my bed. "Basically you electrocuted yourself. Bruce and I figured out how to help you, but it was challenging."

Studying Tony, I notice how drained he looks. "How long was I out?" The way they both look suggest I was unconscious for quite some time. I don't like that thought at all. In that time, Hydra could have launched another attack and I wouldn't have been there to protect Steve.

"Four days," Steve whispers and captures my right hand in his. "It was touch and go for a while. I never realized how intertwined your arm and brain are. I never suspected I could lose you over something like that. You damaged your hand, so what? It seemed so trivial and I never thought…"

"Don't do this." I shake my head at him. "I'm fine now, or ain't I?" I look to Tony for confirmation. He looks confident, smug even, and grins right back at me.

"Actually, you're more than just fine. How tired are you? Can we talk or do you want to go back to sleep?"

Stark sounds hopeful, like he really needs to tell me something, or maybe he just wants to highlight his accomplishments. I don't know what kind of man he is. "I'm fine," I tell them. I can talk, just don't ask me to get to my feet just yet. I suspect my system can't take that yet. I curl my fingers around Steve's in turn, needing the contact. Tony comes to a halt next to my bed and cocks his head. Why do I feel something is terribly wrong? Maybe it's the devious expression in Tony's eyes?

"Well, for starters, I removed Hydra's tracking device, which they installed in your arm. That's probably how the sniper knew where to find you. With that little gadget gone, they'll have a hard time tracking you down," he says smugly, obviously pleased by having detected the tracking device.

"I didn't know it was there…" If I had known I would have told Steve and have searched for a way to remove it. Fuck, that means I endangered him; by staying with him I made him into a walking target! That was never my intention. Why didn't I think of that possibility? I never wondered why Hydra always found me once I completed a mission. The notion of them using some sort of tracking device should have occurred to me!

"There's more, do you want to know?"

The tone Tony uses causes me to grow suspicious. I doubt he has good news for me. Do I want to know? But what choice do I have? What if I'm still endangering Steve without even knowing it? I nod. "Tell me."

"There's actually a lot of technology in your arm that lies dormant. Hydra installed it, but never activated it. Your bionic arm is capable of much more than you think," Tony says enthusiastically.

I don't share his enthusiasm though. I really don't want to know, but I should find out. I need to know what I'm up against in case Hydra decides to use it against me. "What did they do?" How bad is it?

"Your stabilization sensors and sensory array were always active. It gives you certain advantages you're probably unaware of because you use them instinctively. But, and here is the new and exciting stuff, you should also be able to discharge bolts of electric energy from the palm of your hand. Hydra never activated that ability so I guess they didn't want you to know about that little gimmick. Maybe it made you too difficult to control and they feared you might use it against them."

Tony shrugs before he continues. It is getting harder for him to control his excitement.

"Another ability they switched off is being able to discharge an EMP. By doing that, you can render electronic devices useless. I suspect you could even sabotage my armor, but let's not find out. I might have to take you down otherwise. Last, but certainly not least, you can create holograms to make your arm appear normal. One could argue that you could learn to create more complex holograms eventually. I guess you understand why Hydra left these abilities dormant. You could have vanished on them at any given time if those abilities were turned on. Hydra wouldn't have been able to find you."

I need time to progress all that new information. I never suspected a thing. Hydra never told me about those abilities and why would they? They wouldn't want me to have such power, I get that. I was a weapon, to be used, and set aside when no longer needed. The last thing Hydra would have wanted was for me to get away and disappear on them. "Please tell me you didn't switch them on?" I hope he didn't as I have no idea how to control them. I would end up endangering everyone around me and not just Steve.

"What do you prefer?" Tony asks in a deceptively sweet tone.

I can tell from his expression that he would love to switch them on, but I don't agree. I'm dangerous enough as it is. "Don't, at least not yet. I don't want to cause problems by using powers I can't control," I tell them. Tony looks disappointed, but then shrugs.

"I don't agree," Tony says, "But I can't change your mind either. What you need to understand is that you're stronger than you think. You don't have to fear Hydra. With your arm operating on full capacity, Hydra should be afraid of you instead."

"Bucky, you should give it some thought," Steve says, apparently agreeing with Tony. "Hydra IS afraid of you; that's why they never switched those abilities on. Imagine what you can do if those powers were activated. You could stop running."

I shake my head though, suddenly feeling weary to bone. Apparently I'm more deadly than I thought. I can't understand why they're urging me to do this. Don't they know how mentally unstable I am? "They stay switched off," I state clearly. "I'm not endangering anyone." Their looks tell me they disagree, but that's just too bad for them; I'm not budging.

0000

"You have your own place here?" Amazed, I look about. This apartment is different from the one I have grown used to; much more luxurious and modern. It has Tony's signature all over it and I hardly see any personal belongings. This feels more like a shelter than a home.

"Actually, the whole floor is mine. Tony is really generous that way. Each Avenger has its own place," Steve moves into the living room and turns around, smiling at me.

When Steve told me we would spend the night here before heading home in the morning, I expected us having to share a bedroom, not occupying an entire floor which comes equipped with a large kitchen, a comfortable bedroom and several living areas. There are windows everywhere and the view is breathtaking, especially now that the sun is setting. Hydra would condemn the sheer decadence of the place. I walk over to a large window and rest my hands against the glass. The city looks much bigger from up here. "What's an Avenger?" I ask, almost an afterthought.

"We're a bunch of weirdos," Steve says and grins as he walks toward me. "There's Thor, he's from Asgard, and apparently a god. He's a good guy though and has a great sense of humor. You already met Bruce. And then there's Tony, of course. He thinks he runs the Avengers and we let him believe that. He's a great guy, but sometimes his ego gets in the way. You already met Natasha. The only one you didn't meet yet is Clint, but he's easy going and you'll like him. Clint only shows up when we really need him. He has a family and there's a baby on the way so he wants to spend most of his time at home. I can't blame him. I would do the same thing if I were in his shoes."

"And what do the Avengers do?" So far, he hasn't give me any real information.

"When someone wants to destroy the world, we step in and fight him. We're actually quite good at that." Steve moves closer and rests his back against the window, watching me for a while before saying, "You seem changed."

He might be right about that. "Hearing Hydra put more of their hellish technology in my arm, does that." I rest my brow against the cool glass and briefly close my eyes. "I don't know what to do, Steve. Ever since dragging you out of that lake, everything has changed. I don't know who I am anymore. I was Hydra's for so long, and then you come along, giving me a name, and although I don't remember you, I know you. And now this happens." I have no idea how to deal with any of this. At times, I catch myself thinking that them putting me back into cryo would solve everything. However, I have the feeling Steve would never agree to it. He would fight me on it and probably win. Why is he so damn determined to make me stay and fight?

"Granted, it's a lot to take in, but you're doing fine." Steve moves closer and raises his right arm. He places the palm of his hand against my face and caresses my cheek.

It's a weird feeling and I'm not sure why it makes me feel comfortable and cornered at the same time. "Am I? Am I doing fine? Why don't I feel fine then?" I step away from him – needing to break the contact for some reason - and move toward the couch. I lift my arm, stare at it, and my hand turns into a fist. "Can I really stop being Hydra's fist?" Does Steve really believe that? I was an assassin for so long.

"You already did. You're not the Winter Soldier anymore. You're your own person now. I understand that you have changed. How couldn't you, after everything you went through? But you're still very much the Bucky I used to know back then. You're still compassionate… When that sniper took his shot, you protected both of us. You didn't hesitate. You didn't think twice; you just did. You did the same thing back at the hospital; that should tell you enough. It shows who you really are and not what Hydra tried to make you into. Hydra manipulated you, wiped your mind and forced you to do their bidding. That wasn't you. "

"Maybe…" I'm exhausted and don't know how I feel about any of it. Steve offers me absolution, but do I deserve it? Can I really redeem myself? Can I wipe the blade clean after committing all those crimes? "Did I… Did I have any nightmares while I was out?" I hope not.

"No, your brain shut down for a while. We feared you wouldn't wake up, but Tony is really good at what he does and Bruce helped. You didn't have any nightmares."

"I should thank them for saving my life." I AM grateful because now I can spend time with Steve again. At the moment, Steve is my whole world and I don't want to disappoint him. I slowly turn around and search Steve's eyes. "Are we going back to your apartment tomorrow?" I don't feel at home here.

"First thing in the morning, I promise."

Accepting the situation for what it is, I look to Steve to tell me what to do.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What do you want me to do? Go to sleep? Sit?" The look Steve gives me is filled with questions, which I know he'll voice in a moment.

"Explain something to me, Buck. How can it be that you act confidently whenever we're under attack and you go back to being… passive the moment the danger is gone?"

It's something I don't completely understand myself. "I don't know," I start, trying to figure it out. "My need to protect you overrode Hydra's conditioning at the Helicarrier. That's when it started. I was so busy keeping you safe that Hydra's programming lost effectiveness. When you're safe and the pace slows down, then… I… I don't know what to do. Hydra's programming takes over, I guess. They taught me to be submissive, so… " I feel lost. Everything happens much too quickly and I don't know what to hold on to.

Unexpectedly Steve covers the distance between us and pulls me into a hug. I freeze at first, but then relax, as his arms settle around me. He rests his head on my shoulder and I mimic the motion, desperately wanting to get as close to him as I possibly can. This is what I need. This is what I need to hold on to; Steve. He knows how to ground me, to anchor me to the present.

"I don't like ordering you about, or hearing you ask for permission to do things, but if it helps, I'll do whatever it takes until you're strong enough to make those decisions yourself."

It's all I need to hear. "Thank you." I didn't realize I wrapped my arms around him in turn and I'm holding him tight, maybe even too tightly and loosen my hold.

"Why don't we get some rest? You might have slept through these last few days, but I didn't. I sat at your bed and prayed for the first time in ages so you would pull through. The bathroom is that way… bedroom is to your right. We'll share the bed, if that's fine with you?"

I nod. More than fine. That way I can watch over him and stop any nightmares from disturbing his sleep.

0000

I remain awake for a long time and find solace in watching Steve. The moment he joined me in bed he snuggled up to me. The last time we slept like this he wore sweats. This time he stripped down to his boxer like me, which means we are skin on skin and it's… I don't know how to describe it; definitely distracting and… enjoyable perhaps. I enjoy feeling his skin beneath my fingertips.

I have trouble relaxing because of these strange surroundings. I prefer Steve's apartment over this luxurious tower. I shouldn't be ungrateful though; Tony saved my life and uncovered the truth about my arm. It's even more powerful than I thought. Fortunately he didn't activate that technology.

Inhaling Steve's scent, I bury my face against his neck and savor his closeness. He's all I can think of and this is quickly becoming my favorite moment of the day – sleeping curled up like this. Maybe we did this back then as well. Maybe that's why it feels so damn comfortable.

Maybe that's also why my body is reacting to his closeness and body heat. I can't believe this is happening, but I'm growing hard. This is embarrassing and I can only hope Steve isn't going to wake up any time soon. I can't remember the last time my body stirred like this. I do know that during my time with Hydra it never did, so this feels new – and unwanted. I don't want to chase Steve away should he wake up. How could I possibly explain this to him?

Explain what to him? That I'm attracted to him, and that, although I can lie to myself and deny it's happening, my body gets aroused anyways? It doesn't mean a thing, I tell myself. It's a normal, natural reaction and it has nothing to do with Steve's presence. But the thing is, it does. It has everything to do with Steve. I fight the realization, but maybe it's time I stopped lying to myself. This is the reason why I want to protect him. It's the very reason why I want him close and safe. Love, is why I trust him and why my heart remembered him. I'm in love with him… I probably already was in love with him back then, before Hydra got a hold on me. It explains everything!

Steve can never know though. As far as I can tell he greatly values our friendship, but it's all platonic to him. There's no attraction involved on his part. I can live with that, as long as he's in my life and my friend. I just need to keep my distance and hide my feelings from him.

0000

"Your ride is here," Sam announces as he steps out of the elevator. "Are you guys ready to go?"

I get up from the couch and join Steve and Sam. I'm wearing some of Steve's clothes again, and although I don't mind because they carry his smell, this is getting tiresome, as they don't really fit.

"We're ready to go," Steve announces and reaches for my left hand.

I'm tempted to pull away, as he's too close for me not to notice his body heat, which reminds me of what happened last night. I need to be careful around him. Steve pulls me along and I follow them into the elevator, closing my eyes, and fighting off the panic.

"What's up with you an elevators?"

Fuck, Steve noticed. I keep my eyes closed and wait for the doors to open. Once I'm back on the street, I draw in a deep breath. "I'll tell you when we get home." Did I really say that? Did I say home? Is that what the apartment is to me?

Steve's smile is almost blinding. "Yes, let's go home."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9

Steve closes the door to the apartment and I feel like coming home. I recall the first time I walked through that door and realize how much things have changed. My whole life has changed.

"Welcome back home."

Steve suddenly wraps his arms around me from behind and pulls my back against his chest. He's much too close and I'm afraid I'll give myself away, but I can't push him away. I want this. I want him close.

"Want some coffee? You also owe me an answer as to why you panic each time you're in an elevator. You said you would tell me or did you change your mind? That's okay, changing your mind. I won't pressure you."

Steve is rambling. He releases me and heads for the kitchen where he busies himself making coffee. I sit down at the kitchen table and watch him. I guess I can do this for him. As long as he doesn't address Rumlow, I'm fine with sharing things with him. I wait for him to put the coffee onto the table and reach for my mug, which is plain black. Steve always takes his coffee with milk and sugar. He settles down opposite me and watches me from over the rim of his mug.

"It's nothing traumatic," I start and shrug. I blow onto the coffee's surface, helping it to cool down. "I don't know when it started; the thing is, it never bothered me when they put me back into cryo. But put me in an elevator or any other cramped space and I start to panic. I need out."

Steve nods and sips from his coffee. "I don't like small spaces either."

I carefully sip and curse because the coffee is still too damn hot. Chris keeps looking at me and I have the feeling he has more questions. I incline my head toward him and whisper, "What else do you want to know?" Please don't let it be about Rumlow!

"Would you consider becoming a part of the Avengers? Tony mentioned it while you were still recovering and I like the idea."

It's not what I expected. "Join the Avengers? I don't know." I put down my mug and consider it in earnest. "I feel battle-weary, to be honest. I would probably join if you asked me, but… Look at me, what can I possibly contribute to your cause?" Growing depressed, I start listing the things troubling me. "I'm claustrophobic, I suck at decision making, I tend to freeze up, and to be frank, I have no idea how I could help."

"But you're considering it, which is good."

That's all he heard? I shake my head at him – repeatedly. "I'm no superhero like you. Don't make me into one."

"Well, you saved my life twice, no make that three times, if we count you getting me out of the water during the last few days. If that doesn't make you a hero, then what does?"

He actually succeeded in making me blush and I feel very uncomfortable now that he's looking at me like that. I wish he looked at me like that for a different reason, but I need to remain realistic; we're friends, nothing more.

0000

"Buck, can you answer the phone?" comes Steve's voice from the bathroom where he's taking a shower.

I pick up his phone and see Fury's name on the display. I answer the call and wonder what to say.

"Rogers, is that you?"

"No, sir, it's Barnes." Hearing his authoritative tone causes me to react a certain way and I'm stunned to hear I would call myself that.

"Ah, that's fine too. Listen, Barnes, you were right. We found matching DNA. Your mystery sniper is Rumlow, or Crossbones, as he calls himself these days. We checked hospital records and he was admitted with severe burns and broken bones. He survived that building collapsing on top of him, just as you suspected. Tell Rogers to be careful. I've got the feeling Rumlow might try again. He's a nasty piece of work."

Fury doesn't know half of it, but I'm not telling him. "Thanks for the warning, sir, I'll pass on the information." Dealing with Fury is easier than I thought. I'm used to this kind of communication.

"I'll be in touch!" Fury says and then terminates the call.

I put the phone back down on the coffee table and move in front of the window. Somewhere out there Rumlow is waiting for us to grow careless so he can move in and kill us. Knowing him the way I do, I doubt he'll try to shoot us again. He knows we found out his identity by now and that he can't take us by surprise again.

The next time he comes for us, he will throw all he has at us. He'll come through the front door and try to overwhelm us. The thing is, it might work and incapacitate me. I might freeze and won't be able to stop him. He installed fear in me a long time ago. His methods were extremely brutal, that's why Hydra preferred him as my handler; he got results.

When he strikes, I need to be ready for him. I can't be the reason why Steve ends up hurt. I'll have to overcome those fears; only time will tell what will happen, though. Let's hope Rumlow will lay low for a long time.

"Who was that on the phone with you?"

I look at Steve from over my shoulder and curse the fact that he didn't bother to get dressed. He's only wearing a towel wrapped around his hips and he's showing way too much skin. He looks good and I stop myself from drooling at him just in time. I can't afford for him to find out about the attraction and I focus on the problem at hand. "Fury called to confirm Rumlow is on our trail. They found his DNA on the scene."

Steve is towel drying his hair and fucking distracting me! "Put some clothes on, will you!" Steve gives me a stunned look and I turn around and march into my room. I slam the door shut and sit down on my bed, willing my arousal to go away. Maybe thinking about Hydra will do the trick, but I don't want to relive that pain.

"Bucky?"

Steve knocks softly and I draw in a deep breath. "Go away." I don't want him to see me like this. I need to get this under control first. I can't be attracted to him. Why is this happening?

"I'm decent," Steve says. "Can I come inside?"

I sigh, throw back my head, and count to ten. "Yes, you can." Thinking about Hydra did the trick and my arousal went away. But now I can't get the machine out of my head. Why did I have to think about that? Why couldn't I think of Pierce, or even Rumlow?

Steve opens the door and takes his time stepping inside. I feel his eyes upon me and the tension building in the room. The poor guy probably has no idea why I acted like that. Steve doesn't deserve this. I gather my courage and look at him. He looks bewildered and I don't blame him. "I'm sorry," I offer, at which he advances on the bed, but he doesn't sit down. I pat the space next to me, indicating it's okay for him to sit down, which he promptly does.

"What happened just now?"

I'm relieved he put on some clothes, although that jeans is a bit too tight in certain places and the shirt leaves little to the imagination. He probably dressed like this the whole time and I never noticed.

"Is it because Fury confirmed Rumlow is our sniper?"

I feel bad for confusing Steve, but what am I supposed to do? I can hardly tell him that I am in love with him.

"Bucky? You can tell me, no matter what's wrong. I'll always back you up, don't you know that?"

"It's not about Rumlow," I concede, unwilling to reveal the true reason why I reacted like that. "I can deal with him trying to kill us."

"Buck, I thought you hated the guy."

"I do. I really do," but it's not why I stormed out of the room.

"Why don't you give me a clue as to what this is about? I have no idea what I'm dealing with, Bucky."

And I want to keep it that way! "I overreacted." Hopefully that will do. "Don't read too much into it."

"I don't believe it," Steve replies in an earnest tone. "You're hiding something from me. For some reason you don't feel comfortable telling me and… and I accept that. I won't push you, but Bucky, I want you to know that I'll never desert you. I have your back, always."

"Thanks." I'm relieved he's letting it go. Then his hand moves towards mine in a gesture that has become terribly familiar. Holding my hand, he rubs his thumb over its back. The touch is killing me though. It shows me what I can't have. He's always touching me, but for the wrong reason. He simply cares about me. He isn't attracted to me. Accepting that is going to be hard on me.

0000

"Ready to turn in for the night?"

Not really no… But what can I do about it? It was actually me who offered to hold him at night because of his nightmares. I can't back down now, but I took precautions. I'm wearing sweat pants and a sweater, just to ensure we don't end up skin on skin and in a compromising situation. "Yeah, sure," I say, lacking conviction. Steve is already in bed and reading when I step into his bedroom. Steve pushes back the covers, places his book onto the nightstand, and arches an eyebrow at seeing me. He probably wonders about the change; normally I only wear boxers at night. He doesn't comment on it though, and I lie down on my side, as far away from him as possible.

Steve pulls up the comforter and moves toward me. Fuck, if I move away from him, I will fall out of bed, so I keep still instead. I fail to label the expression in his eyes and he seems torn between concern and joy. It's an odd mix.

"Buck, what's going on? You're nervous, why? Do I frighten you all of a sudden?"

"No, you don't," I'm quick to reply. "It's not you." It's me – it's these warm and fuzzy feelings that make me dizzy whenever he's that close. How in hell am I supposed to keep this from him? I will give myself away; I can only pretend for so long, but I really don't want to tell him. I don't want to be rejected.

"Come on over here, so we can get some sleep."

Steve opens his arms and gives me an expectant look. During these last few nights, I eagerly moved into his arms and held him in turn, but what if I grow erect and he notices?

"Maybe I know what this is about," Steve hints and pulls me into his arms.

I don't stop him. Resistance is futile at any rate. I sure hope he didn't figure out what's wrong with me. I'm not sure I can deal with the pain and shame rejection would bring. "I wish you wouldn't do this." I feel compelled to look at him and wish things were different. I wish he returned my feelings and held me like this for a different reason.

"Why so sad?"

"It's nothing." I dismiss his comment and close my eyes. It's the only thing I can do to make this situation less intense. I doubt I will be able to get some sleep tonight with him being this close and my hormones going haywire. Suddenly there's some light pressure against my lips and I quickly open my eyes in order to find out what's happening. He's kissing me, THAT's what's happening! But why? The kiss remains light and chaste, but the fact that he IS kissing me makes my head spin.

Steve eventually pulls away and grins at me. "Is it safe for me to say that you're in love with me? You didn't break off the kiss or moved away. You could have done both."

I'm speechless. He actually rendered me speechless. What am I to say about that? That he's right? That I'm in love with him and thought he couldn't possibly return those feelings? Come to think of it, why did he kiss me? Was it pity? "Why did you do that?" I need to know.

"Why did I kiss you, you mean?"

I hold my breath because Steve suddenly wraps a strand of my hair around a finger and moves it behind my ear. I'm afraid to hope he might feel the same way about me. "Yes, why?"

"Because I've loved you for a very long time. Back in the days, I should have told you, but I never did."

"Is that the truth?" I really, really shouldn't get my hopes up!

"Yes, it is. I fell in love with you when I was about sixteen. I wanted to tell you, I really did, but the time never seemed right and then the war happened. You joined the army and I lacked the courage to tell you. Later, when I found you again, I was so happy to have you back with me, that I didn't want to jinx it. The war had changed you and you were harder to reach. I should have tried though, especially knowing what I do now about Zola and Hydra's experiments."

Zola, that's another name that makes my skin crawl. Not a ghost, but definitely a demon that often haunts my nightmares. "Are you saying that…?" Steve said he was in love with me back then, but does that mean he still feels that way about me, the way I am now? Broken on the inside and burdened with a fragmented mind with no memories of our childhood?

"I'm saying that my feelings for you are still the same. I still love you. I passed the stage of just being in love with you decades ago. My feelings deepened these last few days and I can safely say I love you with all that I am."

I can't believe the things I'm hearing. Did he really say he loves me?

"Yeah, I did, and you said that out loud, just so you know."

Steve's smile is infectious and I find myself smiling back at him. That smile has the capacity to completely disarm me and take away my worries. I love him for it. "Are you sure about this?"

"How many times already did I tell you that I'll be with you to the end of the line? Or would you rather have me say until death do us part?"

Now he's done it and I'm blushing furiously. "You shouldn't say such things."

"Because they make you feel shy? You don't have to feel like that - not around me. I know you, Buck, maybe not intimately, not yet, but hopefully in the future, I will."

"Now you did it again! You're doing this on purpose!"

"No, I'm not. I love you, I would never willingly embarrass you or make you feel awkward. It's probably because this is new to you – and clearly unexpected, while I've had these feelings for decades. When I encountered you on the bridge and realized you were alive… Two things happened at the same time. First, my entire world shattered because you had been alive all that time and I didn't know. Second, I dared to hope again that I would one day hold you in my arms again."

I feel awkward, shy, and embarrassed, and it's like he said, I'm hopeful too, but those feelings are too much. I have no idea where they start and end. I need to get this off my chest – now. "When Hydra pulled me in after we fought on that bridge, I had the distinct feeling that I knew you. I even told Pierce that, twice, and I think it was the reason why he ordered the mind wipe. That I told him that I knew you angered him, maybe even scared him, because I was ready to defy him. I knew you and that's why I talked back to Pierce. I wanted to hold onto that memory of you saying my name. I didn't want Pierce and the machine to take it away. I wanted to hang on to it." I can tell Steve is eager to question me about Pierce and Hydra, but I hope he won't do that right now. "I'll tell you when I'm ready to tell you," I say, trying to meet him halfway. "But not right now."

"That's fine with me. I can think of much better things to do."

I still wonder what he's talking about when he kisses me again. The feel of his lips against mine makes me sigh and I close my eyes in bliss. I never thought I could be this lucky. I never thought he would love me back. His hand settles at the nap of my neck and massages the skin there. It's incredibly relaxing and I sigh into his mouth. We have to break off the kiss because we're running out of breath, and although it remained chaste, it does affect me – my body, that is. I shift away from him, hoping he hasn't noticed yet.

"Hey, I have the same problem, don't worry about it. That's what decades of pent up hormones do to you."

His words reassure me – somewhat. "I can't control it. This attraction… I…"

"You're not supposed to control it, but to let things happen. That's the way it works. We'll take things slowly… We both have to get used to this."

I feel relieved to hear it. "Yes, I need that." I still have trouble believing he feels the same way about me. The kiss however, proved it. He does like me in that way.

"Do you think you can get some sleep or did me kissing you ruin things?"

"I can sleep," I reassure him. I go willingly when he pulls me halfway atop of him and guides my head onto his chest. Gingerly, I wrap my arms around him and close my eyes. "Are you comfortable like this? If I'm too heavy, tell me."

"You feel just right." Steve envelopes me in a hug and sighs contently. "I can get used to this."

"Me too." I've been to hell… Maybe now it's my time to enjoy a piece of heaven?

0000

 _"_ _Sergeant Barnes, surgery was successful. Herr Schmidt will be pleased."_

I scream; Zola's face hovers above me and leers at me, so fucking pleased with the results that he's practically drooling. I try to get away from the bastard, but the restraints keep me in place. Immediately Hydra's soldiers move closer and aim their guns at me.

 _"_ _Quiet! I won't have you disrupt this moment!"_

I hate Zola, I fucking hate him, and if it weren't for these restraints, I would be choking him right now. I fight the shackles, but they don't give in, and the fact that I'm helpless and at his mercy makes it hard for me to breathe.

"Bucky, wake up, you're having a nightmare. Bucky, it's me, Steve. Come on, you can do this. Don't let them hurt you like this. Wake up, wake up for me."

That voice doesn't belong here; it was never part of this scenario before. Why is it here? And who is Steve? Why does that voice sound so familiar and why do I want to hear it again? Please talk to me. I don't care who you are, but please, say something!

"Bucky, I know you can hear me, so listen closely. You're having a nightmare. You're NOT with Hydra! You're at my apartment and you woke up screaming. Bucky, listen to me, it's Steve, your best friend. Just wake up!"

Steve… Steve… the name means something to me and distracts me. My surroundings fade and Zola's face dissolves along with them. Suddenly I'm no longer in his lab. I'm in a bedroom – in a bed to be exact and there's a man looking at me in shock. Wait, I know his name… His name is… "Steve?"

"Thank God," Steve mumbles and brushes damp hair away from my face and behind my ears. "And I thought my nightmares were bad."

I must have scared him, but yes, this was my first, fully fledged nightmare since we were reunited. I got lucky until now. "I warned you about them." Steve pulls me on top of him and wraps his arms tightly around me. I rest my head against his shoulder and try to steady my breathing. Normally a hold like that would make me feel restrained, but because it's Steve, I feel safe instead.

"Do you want to talk about that dream? I'll understand if you can't or won't, but if you do, I'll listen."

I feel torn. This is the first time ever someone is offering to listen to me rant after suffering from a nightmare, but at the same time, I don't want to come across as a lunatic and chase him off.

"I'll listen and I won't judge you, Bucky. You can tell me. I love you, remember? Seeing you in pain like this is hard for me and I want to help."

What he's asking isn't easy for me, but I'll try. This is getting too big for me to contain and I need to talk about it, even I realize that. I move, and he releases me. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling for some time. Steve moves onto his side and I feel his eyes upon me. Once I regained some control over my emotions, I turn onto my side and face him. "Talking about that time is difficult for me," I start, hoping he'll understand.

"I get that."

Steve's right hand settles on my hip and he moves a bit closer. I draw in a deep breath and wonder how to begin. "After I fell from that train, I lost consciousness. I don't remember crashing into that ravine. Nor do I remember Hydra finding me. The first thing I remember is Zola hovering above me, leering at me and telling me that I'm Hydra's now. I had no idea what he was talking about. I was in pain and in shock, and when I moved my left arm, it felt much too heavy. I looked at it and wondered what the hell they had done to me. All that time, Zola was grinning at me, so obviously pleased with the outcome of the surgery that he didn't think I would attack him. I grabbed one of his assistants and they shot me up with some tranquilizer, I think. The next thing I remember is falling again – this time into a big, black nothing."

I'm surprised that I'm able to tell him these things. I didn't think confiding in him would be easy; maybe I was wrong. Steve listens, just as he promised, and doesn't ask questions. He allows me to tell my tale at my own pace and that helps. "When I woke up I was inside this cryo tube. At the time, I didn't know what it was. I was wide awake and wondering what was going on. I didn't know what to make of my new arm and wanted for answers, but no one paid me any attention. Then it started to grow cold, so fucking cold, and I… I…" I don't know how to describe the sensation of being put in cryo. "I stopped thinking."

Steve sighs deeply and his hand moves higher. His fingers eventually caress my face and wipe away the tears leaving my eyes. I never realized I was crying. Even after so many decades this still deeply affects me. "I felt confused and lonely… So lonely… I still feel ashamed for what Zola did to me and I worry about what Dum Dum, Frenchy and the other guys would think of me. I'm sure…" I stop talking because Steve suddenly grins at me. "What?"

"You remember them? You remember our war time buddies? Jim, Dum, Dum, Junior, and the lot? You didn't when you first got here. I caught you staring at the clippings and you said you had no memories of them."

What an odd thing to focus on, but he's right. "I do remember them." How could I have forgotten about them? If this was a distraction on Steve's part, it worked. Suddenly I'm focused on our comrades in arms and not on Hydra. "Does that mean my memories are coming back?" I don't dare to hope that's the case.

"Looks like it, Buck. Maybe you just need to be patient and it will come all back to you. Your memory has gotten better, hasn't it? I recall how quickly you forgot Sam's name when we stayed at the hospital. You forgot about Coulson too, but that's no longer the case, is it? Your memory is getting better."

I can't deny that, but it doesn't change the fact that I just scared the hell out of Steve by having that nightmare. "I'm sorry for—"

"Don't say it, Buck, you don't need to apologize for having nightmares. I have them too, remember? We take care of each other like we did back then."

"If you say so, but I still feel guilty." I did wake him up.

"Don't… I'm here to help, and the next time when I have a nightmare, you'll help me in turn."

I can't find a flaw in that. I move closer and cuddle up to him. Steve reacts at once and covers us with the comforter, tucking it around me.

"Comfortable?" he asks softly.

"Yes…" I look into his eyes and am still awed by the love he holds for me. I don't deserve that, but I'm not complaining.

0000

I wake up early because the sun is rising and rays of bright light find their way into the bedroom. Steve forgot to close the curtains again. His carelessness is going to get him killed. I won't always be there to save his ass.

I still find it hard to believe that he proclaimed he loves me. I thought myself lucky to have his friendship, but now it seems I have his love as well. I'm immensely grateful for this second chance, which I don't deserve. I hurt too many people in the past, killed too many innocents, and am still a loose cannon that might blow up at any given moment.

I draw in a deep breath and close my eyes. Savoring the intimacy of the moment, I rub my check against his shoulder. Yesterday, I was scared to end up skin on skin, now I'm no longer scared, but I feel shy instead. I never counted on Steve calling me on my feelings for him. From the corner of my eye, I look out of the window and take in the radiant sunset.

With Hydra, there was only darkness and there were times when I despaired and was convinced that I would never see a sunrise again. They kept me on a leash when I was awake and stored me on ice when I became an inconvenience. I don't call that living – it was more like vegetating. I had lost all hope, until Hydra made me fight Steve and he recognized me.

I can only hope that my memories of those dark days will eventually fade. Zola, the Red Skull, Pierce, and Rumlow, they haunted me long enough and I want to build a life free of their shadows. That's not realistic, I know that, but I can hope. I'm sure Steve will help and support me. Without him, I'm lost. I hold onto him and draw in his scent; damn, he smells good. And the best thing is, he remains asleep, so I don't have to worry about embarrassing myself.

Although, I must admit to feeling slightly embarrassed because I'm snuggling back up to him, but then again, I'm wanted and he loves me. Who knows what will happen next. Rumlow might kill me and I'll never experience a moment like this again. So I'm going to enjoy it as long as I can.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

"Would you like to go the War Memorial and to the Captain America exhibit today? Maybe the exhibit will spark some of your memories?" Steve sips from his morning coffee and finishes his bacon and eggs.

He looks rather hopeful and I understand his reasoning, but… "I'm not sure how well I do amongst people – not in such large quantities." I no longer like crowds. From what Steve told me I gathered that the old Bucky thrived in public, but that has changed. These days crowds stress me out.

"I doubt both sites will be crowded. The exhibit has been on for years now and the number of visitors has gone down. The last time I went there, I counted about ten people and some kids. Do you think that's doable?"

"Maybe… We'll see." I'll have a look at the place and if I don't like it, I'm out. "Why did you go there?" And why repeatedly? Steve isn't the kind of guy who loves to gloat about his accomplishments. Steve suddenly turns shy, which puzzles me, and he stares at his now empty plate.

"For several reasons… Peggy gets interviewed and the fragment is set to repeat. I like to watch it when I feel lonely and the exhibit features you as well. It has some of your original belongings and looking at them made me less… sad."

I wish I hadn't asked. I didn't want to bring back bad memories, so I curl my fingers around his hand. "We can go there if it means that much to you. I can't guarantee that I can stay for a longer period of time. Crowds make me uncomfortable and unknown territory usually puts me on alert. You'll have to watch me for odd behavior."

"I can do that," Steve says reassuringly. "You have no idea how much having you back means to me."

He's right; I don't, but I imagine it means a great deal to him. I need to caution him though. "You need to keep in mind that Rumlow is still out there, waiting for a chance to get his revenge. Whatever you do, don't underestimate him. He's dangerous."

"About that…"

Steve pulls my hand close to his chest and uses his other hand to pour more coffee. I wonder when he's going to return my hand to me. He seems awfully possessive of it, but I will need it back eventually. "What about it?"

"Shield took the liberty of designing an uniform for you – bullet and fire proof, you know, the works. A lot like mine."

I guess I can live with that. "It will come in handy in battle." I accepted my fate, which is watching Steve's back and keeping him safe. It's like he said; till death do us part.

"So you thought it over? Will you join the Avengers then?"

There's that puppy dog look again. I have the sneaky suspicion he turned it on me in the past as well. "If they want me, they can have me, but make sure they understand I come with a lot of baggage and problems. They can't rely on me in battle."

"We all have our quirks, don't worry about that, and when push comes to shove, we support each other and watch each other's back. If you think you have problems, wait until Bruce turns into the Hulk."

"The Hulk?" I never heard that name before.

"I'll update you later."

Steve's sneaky expression comes back on. He isn't finished yet and I wonder what more trouble he got us into. "Spill it."

"Tony invited us to dinner tonight. That way you can meet the rest of the gang. Thor won't be there, but the others will. Fury and Coulson also agreed to join. It might feel awkward at first, but you'll get used to them. They're easy going and they wouldn't invite you, if they didn't want you onboard."

I'm not so sure about that. "Maybe they don't know what they're getting themselves into."

"No, they know. Trust me, Tony wouldn't invite you if he wasn't sure you'd make a good addition to the team. And it was Tony who suggested it after discussing the matter with the rest of the team. Thor won't cause any problems, believe me, he's easy-going."

Apparently Steve got the whole day planned. I'll just go along and let him take charge.

0000

Driving up to the war memorial I feel relieved; the place is still rather empty. Steve parks the car and I need a moment to mentally prepare myself to face the outside world. Steve nods encouragingly and I follow him toward the memorial. I haven't seen one before and I curiously move closer, encouraged because there are so few people about. I'm surprised to see the engraved names and I study some of them. I'm still sad that the war took so many innocent lives. Judging from the dates of birth and death a large number died very young.

"Buck, come over here, will you? There's something I want you to see."

Steve gestures for me to join him a different section of the memorial and he points at a series of names that stand separately from the rest. I'm shocked to see my name on top. I can't believe my name is really up there, but it really says Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. "But I didn't die. I'm still alive. My name shouldn't be up there; not after all the crimes I committed." It's a lie!

"We thought you died, Bucky. The last thing I remember is you falling into that ravine and I assumed you died. I never knew you managed to survive. Your name deserves to be up there with the rest. In a way, you did die."

I don't agree, but I lack the energy to argue with Steve. I can't bear seeing my name up there with all honors that come along with it when it's a blatant lie. I want to turn away from the memorial when another voice joins in.

"Steve is right. Your name deserves to be up there. You gave Hydra and the Nazi's hell. You fought alongside Steve and your other buddies."

Where did Sam all of a sudden come from? I cringe and avoid looking at him. I know better than to argue with the two of them. They will team up against me.

"A lot of veterans have a hard time facing their past, and for you, everything is even more complicated. But I agree with Steve. In a way, you did die. Hydra took away your life, your identity, and they killed you – on the inside. They took away your memories; how is that any different from murder?"

I knew they were going to do this. Feeling miserable, I look at the inscribed names again and I still don't think mine deserves to be up there with the rest. "Maybe they can remove it?" Belatedly I realize that I said it instead of just thinking it.

"I don't think they should. Even if they did, you would get a honorary mention and your name would stay there – just in a different section. Sam is right, Buck. Hydra killed you… And the Winter Soldier emerged."

I raise my right hand and place my fingertips against the inscription. "I don't deserve this. You know what crimes I committed in Hydra's name."

"You're wrong. Hydra forced the Winter Soldier to commit them. That's a big difference," Sam cuts in.

"I remember them, I remember all of them. Each and every kill. How does that NOT make me a murderer?" I'm afraid to believe them as I can't possibly be absolved of my crimes. I have to live with the fact that I'm a killer.

"That must be hard," Sam says, still not giving up. "But if you'd had a choice, would you have killed any of them?"

I know what he's doing, but it doesn't work that way. "It was my finger that pulled the trigger, my hands that choked the life out of them. I killed them."

"No, you didn't!"

Steve steps in front of me, places his hands on my shoulders, and turns me toward him. I can't recall ever seeing that particular look on his face before.

"They had you under mind control. You couldn't stop it from happening. You couldn't change a thing. Hydra gave the marching orders and the Winter Soldier did as he was told. That wasn't you! Bucky, you care! You're nothing like Hydra's Winter Soldier!"

I stare defiantly at him as I'm not buying it.

Sam cuts in, "You're the guy who feeds squirrels in the park and who cares about homeless veterans. A cold-blooded killer isn't like that. He wouldn't think twice about helping people. An assassin would just shoot the guy. I haven't known you for long, but that doesn't sound like you," Sam says resolutely.

I don't know what to say to that. I can't deny he's right, but…

"You didn't think twice when Rumlow attacked us in that coffee shop. You protected us and I know for sure you would have protected those baristas too if they had been in immediate danger. You are NOT a killer, Bucky. There's no way you can convince us of that," Steve adds, nodding repeatedly.

I feel at a loss and don't know what to do. It IS true. I don't have any homicidal tendencies. The Winter Soldier however did. He IS a different person, but the memories make it hard, if not impossible, to distinguish between the two of us.

"Give it time," Sam suggests. "Readjusting is always hard. It will get better." He looks about and waves at two men standing near the memorial. "I've got to go now. I'm here with two veterans who are also trying to make peace with their past. You're not the only one having a hard time."

Sam smiles reassuringly and then joins his friends, leaving me alone with Steve. This is harder than I thought. I assumed visiting the memorial would have some impact on me, but I didn't expect for this to happen. Steve's arm slips lower and ends up curled around my waist.

"Want to go for some coffee before we head to the exhibit?"

Fuck, I had forgotten about that. I'm not sure I'm up for more emotional bloodletting. If he's really going to make me do this, I need coffee first – lots of it!

0000

I had two cups of the strongest coffee on order before allowing Steve to drag me to the exhibit. Once we reach the entrance, I'm relieved to see that there's no queue. Apparently most people already visited and it's only a handful of people waiting for admittance. That's when I spy a problem. "How do you plan to get me inside? There's a metal detector…"

"Don't worry about it. I know a guy. Just wait here for a second."

I keep an eye on him when he addresses the woman at the reception desk. She picks up her phone and smiles at Steve, telling him to wait. Sometimes lip reading does come in handy. Too bad Steve's back is toward me or I would have gathered more information.

Five minutes later an elderly guard appears at the entrance. He's tall, thin, and his hair long turned grey. He doesn't look like someone wielding authority, but he might be connected to Shield, and they might have put him in charge at the exhibit. That would also explain why Steve thinks he can get me in unnoticed.

They talk, but since I'm looking at their backs, I have no idea what their conversation is about. Steven turns toward me and beckons me to join him. I keep clear of the metal detector and walk up to them.

"Hello there!" The guard says and even smiles at me. "Coulson told me that you might drop by."

That confirms my earlier suspicions; he IS connected to Shield.

"Come on through this way. No need to alarm anyone." He lets me pass and Steve is quick to follow. "Take your time. It's not a busy day. If you need something, let me know. My name is Stan." He walks off, admonishing some children not to touch anything.

"He's a great guy," Steve says as he loops his arm with mine. "When I went after you I stole my original uniform from the exhibit and it almost got him fired. So I sent him an apology note and Shield had a copy of that uniform made in order to make up for the loss." Steve points at the dummy wearing his uniform. "Does anything look familiar?"

Actually an awful lot does. I can't stop staring at the dummies at Steve's side. I instantly recognize my old army uniform and it shocks me to see that Hydra modeled the Winter Soldier's uniform after it. Those bastards had no respect at all. Taking in the dummies one by one, memories roll back into my mind, showing me the missions we went on. I can't believe I'm actually remembering that much about the war. Only a week ago, I had no idea who Dum Dum or Gabe were.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Steve gives me a concerned look and I quickly nod. "Yeah, just trying to deal with… You know, all of this."

"It's probably overwhelming. It's a pity we're the only two still alive. I'm sure they would have been thrilled to find out that you survived."

I'm tempted to contradict him and to tell him that they would probably be disgusted with me considering the things Hydra did to me, but I keep quiet. The thing is, they might have understood what had happened and maybe they wouldn't have blamed me. They knew Hydra; knew the monster for what it was.

"Look over here… Recognize this? It got left behind on the train."

"I do…" It's my old rifle, the one I favored. Extremely light-weight and the perfect weapon for a sniper like me. "It served me well."

"Yeah…"

Steve sounds odd and I study him closely. There's sadness in his eyes and he looks melancholy. "What's wrong?" Reaching out to him is getting easier.

"I just recalled what happened on that train. I couldn't bear watching you fall. I was a coward!"

"Don't do this." I free my arm and wrap it around his shoulder, pulling him against me, and forgetting any people that might be watching us. "None of it was your fault, so don't blame yourself. I don't." Steve draws in a deep breath and seems to compose himself. The forlorn expression in his eyes remains though. I need to distract him again. "Remember Stark's flying car?" I point at the flyer highlighting Stark's inventions. My heart contracts painfully. "That was the last time I saw YOU – the scrawny kid…" It was also before Zola got his dirty hands on me.

"Of course I do. How could I forget?"

Mission accomplished: Steve is smiling again.

"I don't know if you fully realize it, but Tony is Howard's son."

He's right; I didn't realize that. I had wondered about his last name, but it never crossed my mind that he was related to Howard. "Howard was a good guy."

"Yeah, he was," Steve confirms. "Which reminds me, there's something else I want you to see."

He drags me into a side room and I freeze upon hearing a familiar voice. "Is that…?"

"Peggy, yes. They put the interview on repeat, wanna watch it?"

I sit down and Steve quickly joins me. I stare at the screen and am stunned that I actually remember her. "She always liked you… She ignored me. I felt invisible… I joked that I was turning into you."

"You actually remember that?" Steve sounds impressed.

"Yeah, I do… It's getting easier to remember things. I still recall nothing about our childhood, but it feels like I'm going back in time, remembering more and more. Hopefully, I'll one day remember meeting you for the first time." I watch her and find myself smiling at her. "I always liked her. She took no bullshit from anyone."

Steve gives me a dreamy look, and I know that he regrets not being able to be there for her after the plane crash. He's so easy to read. "It's like traveling back in time," I say, at which Steve nods. "It's weird, but comforting." Steve still seems downhearted and I gather my courage and pull him against me. It's still difficult for me to show any form of initiative. It will take time for me to get used to being in charge of my own life.

0000

"Why are we stopping?" Steve came to a halt in front of a men's clothing store. Does he need to get some stuff?

"You've been wearing my clothes, and although they look good on you, they don't really suit you. What about a quick stop and we shop for some clothes that fit you?"

I look inside and waver. The place is rather empty, but I don't look forward to shopping. It's been ages since I went into a store. "I'm not sure."

"Give it a try, please. We can always leave if you don't feel comfortable."

Steve knows I can't deny him and he's using it against me. "Fine, but only for a few minutes."

0000

One hour later, Steve and I leave the store carrying several bags. Steve went nuts and got me several new outfits, including one for the dinner party tonight, as he insisted I needed to look my best. I didn't fight him, as I just wanted it over with. I still dislike him paying for the lot. The fact that he assured me that Shield pays the bill doesn't help. I dislike people having to spend their money on me, but reality is that I don't even own a dollar.

"Don't worry about it," Steve says, knowing me as well as I know him, and easily guessing why I'm so quiet. "Once you're on Shield's payroll, you'll have your own money to spend."

"On Shield's payroll? Me? Why would they do that?" I already got lucky with Shield not arresting me. My freedom is payment enough as far as I'm concerned.

"Are you kidding me? You're a great addition to the team!"

"The Avengers?" I ask, making sure.

"Yes! Trust me, when the bad guys attack again, Shield will be happy to have you on their side!"

I'm not that sure about it, but I stay quiet – again. I don't know why, but objecting no longer feels right. Maybe Steve is rubbing off on me and I'm beginning to believe that I'm not to blame for the Winter Soldier's actions. Maybe joining the Avengers is the right thing to do and it will allow me to make amends. Maybe I'll find redemption by choosing that path.

"I'll do it," I say eventually, causing Steve to smile at me enthusiastically. He pulls me close and hugs me. Yes, this is the right thing to do. I won't throw away this second chance. I have no idea what the future holds for me, but these days I actually have the chance to find out.

0000

I'm nervous; I don't do well in crowds and the dinner party at Stark's tower turned out bigger than I expected. I'm relieved Sam is already there when we arrive. It's reassuring to see a friendly face. Steve walks me to my chair and I sit down, watching everyone closely.

I know Romanoff of course. She's showing off her body, wearing a tight black dress and I wonder who she's trying to lure into her web. If I'm not mistaken it's the scientist, Bruce Banner. The guy strikes me as shy and I doubt he'll be the first one to make a move. I wish her luck on that conquest; she'll need it.

Fury didn't turn up alone. Coulson is tagging along and he's once more looking at Steve and me with profound admiration. I don't feel threatened, but the hero worship makes me uncomfortable and I know Steve likes it even less. To his right sits a woman I never met before. Fury introduced her as his confidante, Maria Hill. She strikes me as efficient and that's probably why Fury likes her.

Tony is flirting with his girlfriend, Pepper. Now that I know that he's Howard's son, I recognize some of his facial features. He also resembles Howard behavior wise. It's easy to see that he's his father's son.

The other unknown factor is a guy called Clint Barton. Apparently he's a gifted archer and a valuable asset to the Avengers. He seems rather laid back and I wonder what he's like in battle. At first, I wasn't sure if he would accept me as part of the team, but so far, he seems rather accepting. We'll see what the future brings.

"Rhodey says sorry, but he can't join us," Tony informs us, "he has a prior military engagement he couldn't reschedule. I'm sure you'll meet him shortly. And now, eat!"

I hardly pay the food any attention. The fact that I'm suddenly part of a team still baffles me. I wonder why they want me onboard. Steve told me I make a great addition to their team of misfits, as he calls them, but I can't see it – yet. Maybe I will in the future.

0000

"Why don't you stay for the night? You have an entire floor here at the tower and you spend too little time here as it is!"

I recognize an attempt at manipulation when I see one and I look toward Steve for an answer. Steve's expression tells me it is not what Tony had hoped for.

"Dinner was great," Steve tells Tony, "But I really want to spend the night at home."

Yeah, at home. That's where I want to be right now. I feel safe there; Stark's tower doesn't feel like home.

"Drop by really soon then. I'll let you guys know when Rhodey shows up. Too bad we don't have a bat signal to alert Thor he's wanted. I do need to work on that," Tony rambles on while he walks us to the tower's exit. "By the way, how's the arm functioning? Any problems with it?"

"It works just fine." I guess he has a professional interest in me maintaining full function especially now that I'm on their team.

"Good, very good!"

The door opens and Steve and I step onto the street. I scan our surroundings while they say their temporary goodbyes. I still expect Rumlow to make his move and refuse to let my guard down. I'll be ready for the bastard. I'm done with him ruining my life.

"Are you coming along?"

Steve walks towards his car and I follow suit. I stay alert, registering every little movement, every possible threat I encounter, but in the end, nothing turns out threatening. I get into the car and Steve ignites the engine. I feel odd though; I feel watched. "Steve, don't…"

"What's wrong?" Steve keeps the engine running and looks at me. "Feeling something hostile again?"

"Yeah, that's it." Shivers run down my back and I know Rumlow is close. I just know it. "Something is terribly wrong. I think he's here."

"Rumlow?"

I nod. "But I don't know where he is or what he's up to."

"Making his move now wouldn't be very smart. We're awfully close to Tony's tower, which houses a lot of Avengers at the moment. Rumlow won't stand a chance if he strikes now."

"Maybe he doesn't care about that. Maybe he just wants the job done and he doesn't mind going down with us." Steve uncovers his phone and starts talking. I'm not listening though. I keep searching for Rumlow.

"Tony put Jarvis to work and they're scanning for unlikely power sources. You know Rumlow best. What do you think he's up to?"

"I have no idea, but I do know that he has nothing left to lose, so he's extremely dangerous." Steve reaches for something on the backseat and grabs his shield. I didn't realize he had brought it along; it might come in handy.

Suddenly there's an explosion behind us and I turn around. "A military tank?" That's a new one! "We need to get out of the car – now!" It's a heavily armored military tank and it's targeting us. I'm ridiculously grateful that the tank hides Rumlow from view. I don't know how I'll react upon seeing the bastard's ugly face.

Hiding behind a parked car, I ponder the best way to take out the tank and Rumlow with it without injuring the innocent people who are now running for cover. Steve beckons me to stay where I am and I consider my options. How do I communicate with Steve? The tank makes too much noise and a lot of people are screaming… Suddenly my hands are moving, making signs I thought I had long forgotten about. In the war, we used sign language to communicate, and for some reason, those memories are coming back.

Steve arches an eyebrow and smiles at me in spite of our dire situation. He looks impressed that I remembered. He's about to sign back, when he sees two children, frozen in the tank's immediate path. Steve, being Steve, runs towards them and tries to move them into safety, leaving himself wide open for attack. I start running, but I'm still too far away to damage that tank. Fuck! My left hand turns into a fist due to my frustration, and when I open it, a bolt of energy leaves my palm. What the fuck? I stare at it in shock, but then I recall that there's a tank targeting Steve. I jump out of the way when it fires a missile at me. I end up next to Steve, who got the two kids into safety and then returned to deal with the tank.

"What was that?" Steve asks, staring at my arm questioningly.

"I have no fucking idea," I confess. I'm still trying to figure out what happened when back up arrives, and I must admit it's good being part of a group again. It's the first time I see Iron Man in action and I'm sure glad he's on my side. Sam, using the new wings Stark created, also joins in. A series of arrows hits the tank and explosions rock the vehicle. I don't understand why Rumlow is this stupid. He knows he can't possibly defeat us at the moment.

It's strange to watch other people fight my old nemesis. I was so afraid that I would freeze and that Steve would end up injured because of me, but that didn't happen. I didn't freeze, I acted instead.

"Let them do this," Steve says and holds me back when I want to run toward the tank. "We're part of team. You don't have to face him if you don't want to." I'm grateful, but still, I need to face him.

It's Romanoff and Barton who pull Rumlow from the tank. Rumlow puts up a fight, but he's outnumbered. His actions don't make sense, but when they remove his facial mask, I begin to understand. This was a suicide mission. His face and a large part of his upper body are horribly burned. I guess having a building collapse on top of him left him scarred.

"You're under arrest, motherfucker," Fury says, and watches Hill handcuff him. "We're going to have a nice talk about Hydra."

"Hail Hydra… Cut off one head and two more will take its place," Rumlow counters and spits at Fury. "And you," Rumlow sneers, looking at me. "Don't think you'll ever be free of Hydra! You belong to us!"

"I don't think so," Steve says calmly – maybe even too calmy. "He's part of the Avengers now and we stand together. We protect our own. You're just a very bad loser, Rumlow, and before I forget it," Steve says and approaches Rumlow, "this is for lying to me and hurting my best friend!"

Steve hits Rumlow in the face and I'm not fast enough to stop him. Rumlow ends up on his ass and his crooked smile finally leaves his scarred face. "Steve, don't…" But Steve is seething. He's howling mad and ready to get some payback. "Steve, look at me damn it, and cool it!" I know what he gets like when he's really angry. I plant myself in between the two of them and force Steve to look at me.

"He hurt you!" Steve complains and glares at Rumlow.

"And Shield just took him into custody. Rumlow is no longer a threat." I'm stunned that I'm calm and in control of my emotions. I assumed I would be the one losing my nerve and not Steve, although, in hindsight, Steve always was the impulsive one out of the two of us. I lost count of the times I tried to keep him out of trouble when we were kids. His mum, Sarah, who practically adopted me when I was about eight, asked me to look out for Steve as well, as Steve constantly got himself into trouble. It wasn't an easy job, but one I was dedicated to. Steve was… Fuck…

"Buck?"

Suddenly Rumlow no longer matters. I don't fucking care about him anymore. "I remembered something."

Steve holds his breath and looks at me in eager expectation. "What did you remember?"

"Bailing you out before. You were a handful as a kid, keeping your mum and me busy saving your scrawny ass because you always went after bullies, like you did just now. How many more times do I have to tell you –" I fail to finish that sentence because Steve suddenly hugs the life out of me. "Don't!" Not in public and not that tightly. "I need to breathe!" Steve loosens the hold but keeps smiling at me in a goofy way.

"Your memory keeps coming back!"

Yeah, I gathered that much as well. Returning to reality, I search for Rumlow, but Shield already took him away. We do have a small audience though. Stark, Romanoff, Sam, and Banner are ogling us. Seeing Stark's face reminds me of something. "What happened earlier? Where did that energy blast come from?" I pull away from Steve, who reluctantly lets me go.

"I told you Hydra switched off certain abilities, remember? I kinda forgot to mention that I turned them on. Worked well for you, didn't it?" Tony sounds smug and definitely not remorseful.

"You fool! You did that and didn't tell me? I could have hurt people because I didn't know what I was capable of."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it. You seem to share Rogers' insane urge to protect people. You might want to test your range, power level, and stuff like that. Let me know if you need help testing." The mask moves back in front of his face and Stark takes off.

"That fucking idiot…" I shake my head and can't believe he did that!

"I'm surprised Steve lets you get away with such dirty language," Romanoff quips. "He's constantly reminding us that we need to behave ourselves."

"I don't fucking care…" I shrug and stare at my arm, and suddenly confronted with these new abilities, I start to worry again.

"Your car is a goner," Sam says as he lands close to us. "Maybe you should stay at the tower tonight."

"Do you mind?" Steve asks me.

"Fine with me," I concede. It might be best to stay close to Stark for a while, especially since I don't know what's up with my arm.

0000

Standing in front of the window, I look at the busy city below me. Shield cleaned up the mess Rumlow left behind and towed Steve's car, promising to replace it in the morning. Accepting that Rumlow is in Shield's custody and no longer a threat, is hard to process. I lived in fear of that man for a long time.

"You look sad."

Steve walks up to me and enfolds me in a hug. I rest my head against his shoulder and inhale his familiar scent. "I'm not sad, not exactly." This is going to be hard, maybe harder than I thought. "We took Rumlow out of the game. That's hard to believe. I didn't think he would make it that easy for us."

"Well, you don't know what motivated him, but it looks like a suicide mission to me. Maybe he couldn't deal with being scarred. Maybe he overestimated himself. Do you really want to know?"

"No, knowing he's in custody is enough for me." I step out of the embrace and head toward the bed where I sit down. I need some distance if I'm going to do this. "Do you still want to know about Rumlow?" I hope I can do this for him.

"Only if you feel comfortable telling me. I don't want to pressure you." Steve sits down on the floor and waits.

He probably realizes that I need some distance right now and I'm glad he's giving me that. "I don't know where to start… I've had handlers as long as I can remember. They trained me and honed my fighting skills. They dropped me off at the site and picked me up when I was done. They would debrief me and put me into cryo again." Steve gives me a careful look. He probably realizes I'm avoiding certain matters.

"You don't have to do this. You don't have to tell me. You're hurting and I don't want that."

That's good to hear, but I should face this. "Rumlow was the worst. He would always push me during training. When I was already down, he would humiliate me. He loved to drag me around the training room by my hair. It was his favorite way to discipline me, that and chaining me to the wall naked and leaving me there indefinitely without any food or water. It was his way to keep me down; to show me that he was my master."

At the time, it hurt terribly, emotionally mostly, but looking back at in now, I'm surprised to find that I can emotionally distance myself from it. "The first few hours after being taken out of cryo are the worst. My lungs need to adapt and breathing hurts. My skin actually hurts because of the huge change in temperature and Rumlow loved to push me under a scalding hot shower. Later, he would shave and dress me. It made me feel like an object, an asset – a possession."

"Bucky…"

Steve exchanges the floor for the bed and sits down next to me. He extends his arms and allows me to make up my mind. I can't hug him right now, don't ask me why, but I can't. I can hold his hand though, so I wrap my fingers around his right hand. "It wasn't living… It was… I don't know… It was torture, I guess." Feeling depressed I hesitantly make eye contact. Admitting those things were difficult because it shows just how helpless I really was.

"Thank you for telling me… That must have hurt."

"It did…" I draw in a deep breath and pull his hand into my lap so I can twine our fingers. "Are you certain you want to take me on twenty four seven? I have a lot of baggage. I'll probably scream you awake each night because of the nightmares. I feel awkward about people and… I doubt I'm easy to live with."

"Bucky, I love you… I take you as you are, baggage and all. I'm so happy to have you back and I'm certain we'll manage. We always did."

The way he looks at me makes me feel very humble; he's deadly serious about this. "I love you too." I freeze briefly when he leans in closer to kiss me, but then I relax. This is Steve – my best friend and he loves me. He's right; we'll somehow figure this out. We'll manage and we'll face the future together – until death do us part, or as he likes to say – till the end of the line.

The end


End file.
